the names and
numbers of the bonds in his memorandum book. Those bonds still perplexed
him. He could not explain them, satisfactorily. It might be that Egbert
had more left from his wife's estate than Judge Knowles expected him to
have or that Bradley was inclined to think he had. Lobelia's will
bequeathed to her beloved husband "all stocks, bonds, securities, etc.,"
remaining. But Knowles had more than intimated that none remained. The
pictures of the horses and the ladies in Egbert's room at Sarah
Macomber's confirmed the captain's belief that the Phillips past had
been a hectic one. It seemed queer that, out of the ruin, there should
have been preserved at least two thousand dollars in good American--yes,
City of Boston--bonds.

In the back of the Kendrick head was a theory--or the ghost of a
theory--concerning those bonds. He did not like to believe it, he would
not believe it yet, but it was a possibility. Elizabeth had been
bequeathed twenty thousand dollars. She and Egbert had been close
friends for a time. She had liked him, had trusted him. Of late, so
Esther Tidditt said, that friendship had been somewhat strained. Was it
possible that.... Humph! Well, Bradley might know. He was Elizabeth's
guardian, he would know if her investments had been disturbed.

Then, too, if worst came to the worst and he had to raise the eight
hundred, which he had promised Kent, by borrowing it, he could, he
thought, arrange to get from Bradley an advance of that amount, or a
part of it, against his salary as manager of the Fair Harbor.

So he determined, as the next move, to go to Orham and visit the lawyer.
On Saturday morning, therefore, he and the Foam Flake once more
journeyed along the wood road to Orham.

CHAPTER XVII

The trip was cold and long and tedious. The oaks and birches were bare
of leaves and the lakes and little ponds looked chill and forbidding.
Judah's prophecy of a clear day was only partially fulfilled, for there
were great patches of clouds driving before the wind and when those
obscured the sun all creation looked dismal enough, especially to
Kendrick, who was in the mood where any additional gloom was distinctly
superfluous. But the Foam Flake jogged on and at last drew up beside the
Bradley office.

Another horse and buggy were standing there and the captain was somewhat
surprised to recognize the outfit as one belonging to the Bayport livery
man. A gangling youth in the latter's employ was