ather and married him. My uncle approved of the match, although
he told my mother he wished she had married a Frenchman instead
of an American. They all went to live at a place called Watchville
on the seacoast. My uncle was then writing a great work on ancient
history to be issued in ten big volumes."

"Phew! I hope he didn't want any fellows to study it," murmured the
doctor's son.

"Mother has told me that my uncle was all right in his mind while
I was a little boy and when my father was alive. But after my
father died Uncle Pierre grew kind of queer in his head. My mother
thought it was too much study and she advised him to take a rest.
But he said he must get his big history written and he kept on
writing and burning the midnight oil as college fellows call it, and
it made him queerer and queerer every day.

"One day he went to the post-office for his mail. That was when
I was about nine years old. When he got back he began to dance
around and he caught me by the hands and rushed around the house
like a crazy man. 'A hundred thousand francs! A hundred thousand
francs!' he kept calling out, over and over again. Then my mother
asked him what he meant. He said a distant relative had died and
left him and her a hundred thousand francs."

"How much is that?" asked Whopper, who knew little about French
money.

"A franc is worth about nineteen cents," said Snap.

"Yes, and a hundred thousand francs is about nineteen thousand
dollars," went on Giant. "My mother tried to get the particulars
from Uncle Pierre, but he was so excited she could not, excepting
that half the money was coming to himself and half to her. He said
he would see about it the next day.

"That night there came a violent thunderstorm and our house was
struck by lightning. The only damage done was to one corner in
which was located Uncle Pierre's writing desk. The desk was ripped
apart by the lightning bolt and some of his precious manuscripts
were burnt.

"When my uncle discovered that part of his great historical work
had been destroyed he acted as if he was insane. He was almost
on the point of committing suicide, but my mother stopped him.
She told him to remember about his good fortune in having all
that money left to him, but he only shook his head and said he
would rather have his manuscripts back. At last she got him to
bed, but in the morning he had disappeared."

"Disappeared?" came from the others.

"Yes. He had