; and that ends his
connection with the business. He is to have fifteen hundred dollars a
year for taking care of the property."

"I understand all that," I added.

"The rest of it is clear enough. If your mother dies before you are
twenty-one, all the income goes to you. Whenever your mother dies, her
share goes to you. If you die before your mother, your share goes to
your uncle; and then your mother's share goes to him or his heirs at her
death. It says at the end there that your uncle shall not be required to
give bonds for the faithful performance of his duty under the will.
Don't you understand it?"

"I think I do; at least I understand enough of it. I would give all the
money to know where my poor mother is. I care more for her than I do for
myself."

"I think you will find her."

"O, I hope you will!" exclaimed Kate.

"I heard Tom tell my uncle that he had given him all the money he
wanted," I added. "What do you suppose that means?"

"I suppose your uncle has given up the property to Tom," replied Bob.

"Tom lives in Philadelphia--don't he, Kate?"

"I think he does; indeed I am pretty sure of it," she answered.

"I can't see how they have managed the business without discovery. My
father must have had some friends who knew about his affairs."

"And your mother, too," added Bob. "I don't see through it; but I
suppose you will understand it one of these days."

"Bob, I don't like to carry this will round with me. I may lose it, or
Tom Thornton may get it away from me. I want you to take it. Give it to
your father, and ask him to keep it safe for me. And when I want a
powerful friend, I shall call upon him."

"You may be sure he will do all he can for you," said Bob, heartily, as
he carefully deposited the precious document in his pocket. "What else
have you, Ernest?"

"Here is a letter directed to 'Robert G. Bunyard, London,'" I replied,
producing it.

"I wouldn't open that yet. What else have you?"

"Here are half a dozen letters," I added, opening one of them.

"What does it say?--read it," said Bob, impatiently.

I read it, and it proved to be an acknowledgment of the receipt of two
hundred pounds, signed by Bunyard.

Four others were of similar import, and all of them were dated in
different years. The sixth began in the same manner, acknowledging a
like sum of money. It was dated three years back. I read aloud, with
intense emotion, a few lines that followed the business matter.

"'