th Mr. Morton. The corn and potatoes were looking finely. The garden
vegetables were up, and to all appearance doing well. Frank surveyed the
scene with a feeling of natural pride.

"Don't you think I would make a successful farmer, Mr. Morton?" he
asked.

"Yes, Frank; and more than this, I think you will be likely to succeed
in any other vocation you may select."

"I am afraid you're flattering me, Mr. Morton."

"Such is not my intention, Frank, but I like to award praise where I
think it due. I have noticed in you a disposition to be faithful to
whatever responsibility is imposed upon you, and wherever I see that I
feel no hesitation in predicting a successful career."

"Thank you," said Frank, looking very much pleased with the compliment.
"I try to be faithful. I feel that father has trusted me more than it is
usual to trust boys of my age, and I want to show myself worthy of his
confidence."

"You are fortunate in having a father, Frank," said the young man, with
a shade of sadness in his voice. "My father died before I was of your
age."

"Do you remember him?" inquired Frank, with interest.

"I remember him well. He was always kind to me. I never remember to
have received a harsh word from him. It is because he was so kind and
indulgent to me that I feel the more incensed against a man who took
advantage of his confidence to defraud him, or, rather, me, through
him."

"You have never mentioned this before, Mr. Morton."

"No. I have left you all in ignorance of much of my history. This
morning, if it will interest you, I propose to take you into my
confidence."

The eagerness with which Frank greeted this proposal showed that for him
the story would have no lack of interest.

"Let us sit down under this tree," said Henry Morton, pointing to a
horse-chestnut, whose dense foliage promised a pleasant shelter from the
sun's rays.

They threw themselves upon the grass, and he forthwith commenced his
story.

"My father was born in Boston, and, growing up, engaged in mercantile
pursuits. He was moderately successful, and finally accumulated fifty
thousand dollars. He would not have stopped there, for he was at the
time making money rapidly, but his health became precarious, and his
physician required him absolutely to give up business. The seeds of
consumption, which probably had been lurking for years in his system,
had begun to show themselves unmistakably, and required immediate
attention.

"By th