"Never heard of him. Does he live in Boston?" asked Trafton.

"No, he was a Scotchman."

"Some Scotchmen are pretty smart, I've heard tell."

"Scott was a wonderful genius," said Robert, glowing with enthusiasm.

"I dare say he was," said the fisherman placidly. "Where did you get the
book?"

"I borrowed it of the hermit."

This was the name which Robert used, for even now he had no knowledge of
his mysterious friend's name.

"Has he got many books?"

"A whole bookcase full."

"He must be a rich man," suggested John Trafton with apparent
carelessness.

"I think he is," said Robert, wondering a little at his uncle's newborn
interest in his new acquaintance, but suspecting nothing of his design
in asking the question.

"It stands to reason he must be," continued the fisherman. "He doesn't
do anything for a living."

"No."

"Then, of course, he's got enough to live on."

"Besides, all his furniture is very nice," cried Robert, falling into
the trap. "He seems not to mind money and talks as if he was always used
to it."

"I s'pose he pays you for running of errands for him," said Trafton.

"Yes," answered Robert reluctantly, for he feared that his uncle would
ask to have the money transferred to him. But the next words of Trafton
reassured him.

"That's all right," he said. "You can spend the money as you please. I
don't ask you for any of it."

"Thank you, uncle," said Robert warmly.

Mrs. Trafton regarded her husband in surprise. He was appearing in a
character new to her. What could his sudden unselfishness mean?

"I only asked because I didn't want you to work for nothing, Bob," said
his uncle, not wishing it to appear that he had any other motive, as his
plan must, of course, be kept secret from all.

"I wouldn't mind working for nothing, uncle. It would be small pay for
his saving my life," Robert said with perfect sincerity.

"He wouldn't want you to do it--a rich man like him," returned the
fisherman complacently. "It's the only money he has to spend, except
what he pays for victuals. I'm glad you've fallen in with him. You might
as well get the benefit of his money as anybody."

"Uncle seems to think I only think of money," Robert said to himself
with some annoyance. "I begin to like the hermit. He is very kind to
me."

He did not give utterance to this thought, rightly deeming that it would
not be expedient, but suffered his uncle to think as he might.

"Does the hermit always s