certificates for profit. He acquainted the Third National Bank with this
fact, and of course the information came to Cowperwood as teller. He
told his wife about it, and so his son, in this roundabout way, heard
it, and his clear, big eyes glistened. He wondered why his father did
not take advantage of the situation and buy some Texas certificates for
himself. Grund, so his father said, and possibly three or four others,
had made over a hundred thousand dollars apiece. It wasn't exactly
legitimate, he seemed to think, and yet it was, too. Why shouldn't such
inside information be rewarded? Somehow, Frank realized that his father
was too honest, too cautious, but when he grew up, he told himself, he
was going to be a broker, or a financier, or a banker, and do some of
these things.

Just at this time there came to the Cowperwoods an uncle who had not
previously appeared in the life of the family. He was a brother of Mrs.
Cowperwood's--Seneca Davis by name--solid, unctuous, five feet ten in
height, with a big, round body, a round, smooth head rather bald, a
clear, ruddy complexion, blue eyes, and what little hair he had of
a sandy hue. He was exceedingly well dressed according to standards
prevailing in those days, indulging in flowered waistcoats, long,
light-colored frock-coats, and the invariable (for a fairly prosperous
man) high hat. Frank was fascinated by him at once. He had been a
planter in Cuba and still owned a big ranch there and could tell him
tales of Cuban life--rebellions, ambuscades, hand-to-hand fighting with
machetes on his own plantation, and things of that sort. He brought
with him a collection of Indian curies, to say nothing of an independent
fortune and several slaves--one, named Manuel, a tall, raw-boned black,
was his constant attendant, a bodyservant, as it were. He shipped raw
sugar from his plantation in boat-loads to the Southwark wharves in
Philadelphia. Frank liked him because he took life in a hearty, jovial
way, rather rough and offhand for this somewhat quiet and reserved
household.

"Why, Nancy Arabella," he said to Mrs Cowperwood on arriving one Sunday
afternoon, and throwing the household into joyous astonishment at his
unexpected and unheralded appearance, "you haven't grown an inch! I
thought when you married old brother Hy here that you were going to
fatten up like your brother. But look at you! I swear to Heaven you
don't weigh five pounds." And he jounced her up and down by the w