f I finally have to give up looking for the gold,
I can go back there and do pretty well. But it would take me a long time
to get enough together to pay father's debts, and perhaps I could never
do it. That's the real reason why I'm so anxious to find the chest. It
isn't so much for what it would give me, though of course I'd be glad to
have it. But I know how father felt, and I feel that I owe it to his
memory to carry out his wishes, if I possibly can."

"Do the debts mount up to a very large amount?" Bill ventured to ask.

"Larger than I care to think of," answered Ross. "I should say that it
would take about twenty thousand dollars if they were settled now. And,
of course, there's the interest creeping up with every day that passes."

"I guess the creditors would be so glad to get back the principal, that
they wouldn't worry much about the interest," remarked Lester.

"I suppose they would," answered Ross. "But they ought to get both, and
I shall never feel that I'm clear with the world until they do."

It was clear that the son had inherited to the full his father's
independence of spirit, and the boys' liking for him deepened.

"Most of the debts are for small amounts," Ross continued, again taking
the little red memorandum book from his pocket, "that is, comparatively
small. There's one big one that is more than all the rest put together.
The others are for a few hundred dollars each, though one or two of them
run into the thousands."

He turned over the pages.

"Father was very methodical and precise," he went on, showing the pages.
"You see, he has all the names arranged in alphabetical order. There's
Allen, three hundred and twenty-seven dollars; Carey, one hundred and
ninety-two; Linson, eighty-five; Masters, six hundred and eighteen. And
here we come to the big one, Rushton, twelve thousand four hundred
and----"

"What was that?" broke in Teddy excitedly. "Why that's my name and
Fred's."

"Is that so?" asked Ross in surprise, for so far he had heard the boys
speak to each other only by their first names, and there had been no
formal introduction. "It isn't such a common name, either. Perhaps it's
your father. What's his first name?"

"Mansfield," came simultaneously from both of the boys.

"Oh, then he isn't the one," said Ross, consulting his book. "This
is--let me see," as his finger sought the place, "Aaron--Aaron Rushton."

"We have an Uncle Aaron, my father's brother," stated Fred.

"Can