Road.

'Michael, I said his uncle, 'the reason that I am here is because I
cannot endure those nephews of mine. I find them intolerable.'

'I daresay you do,' assented Michael, 'I never could stand them for a
moment.'

'They wouldn't let me speak,' continued the old gentleman bitterly; 'I
never was allowed to get a word in edgewise; I was shut up at once with
some impertinent remark. They kept me on short allowance of pencils,
when I wished to make notes of the most absorbing interest; the daily
newspaper was guarded from me like a young baby from a gorilla. Now, you
know me, Michael. I live for my calculations; I live for my manifold and
ever-changing views of life; pens and paper and the productions of the
popular press are to me as important as food and drink; and my life
was growing quite intolerable when, in the confusion of that fortunate
railway accident at Browndean, I made my escape. They must think
me dead, and are trying to deceive the world for the chance of the
tontine.'

'By the way, how do you stand for money?' asked Michael kindly.

'Pecuniarily speaking, I am rich,' returned the old man with
cheerfulness. 'I am living at present at the rate of one hundred a year,
with unlimited pens and paper; the British Museum at which to get books;
and all the newspapers I choose to read. But it's extraordinary how
little a man of intellectual interest requires to bother with books in a
progressive age. The newspapers supply all the conclusions.'

'I'll tell you what,' said Michael, 'come and stay with me.'

'Michael,' said the old gentleman, 'it's very kind of you, but you
scarcely understand what a peculiar position I occupy. There are some
little financial complications; as a guardian, my efforts were not
altogether blessed; and not to put too fine a point upon the matter, I
am absolutely in the power of that vile fellow, Morris.'

'You should be disguised,' cried Michael eagerly; 'I will lend you a
pair of window-glass spectacles and some red side-whiskers.'

'I had already canvassed that idea,' replied the old gentleman, 'but
feared to awaken remark in my unpretentious lodgings. The aristocracy, I
am well aware--'

'But see here,' interrupted Michael, 'how do you come to have any money
at all? Don't make a stranger of me, Uncle Joseph; I know all about the
trust, and the hash you made of it, and the assignment you were forced
to make to Morris.'

Joseph narrated his dealings with the bank.

'O, bu