all come out right," said the old man. "Did you
see John Tremlett?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me about him," said the old man eagerly. "Ho does he look?"

"He looks like a fast young man," answered Ben. "I did not like
him at all."

"Do you think he is spending money fast?"

"I know he is. How much money do you think he has drawn in a
month?"

"Two hundred dollars?" suggested Mr. Benton.

"He had drawn eight hundred and spent it all, for he came into the
office to ask for more."

"The young scoundrel!" exclaimed Marcus Benton, with an
excitement which Ben could not understand. "Why he is making
ducks and drakes of my old friend's fortune."

"Did you know Uncle Matthew?" asked Ben quickly.

"Yes," answered the old man. "I told you so, didn't I?"

"No, sir, you never told me that. Do you know John Tremlett?"

"Yes, I have seen him. He was a sober, steady young man
apparently, who ingratiated himself with Mr. Baldwin, whom he
deceived as to his real character."

"What relation was he to Uncle Matthew?"

"Very distant, but he seemed near, having been in his employ for
several years. He collected rents and attended to other necessary
matters."

"If he was ever sober and steady, he has changed a good deal."

"Did Mr. Brief give him the money he asked for?"

"Not all he wanted. He gave him one hundred dollars, and reminded
him that he was only at liberty to pay over to him the income of the
estate--that is, for the first twelve months."

"Quite right!" murmured Mr. Benton.

"He lectured him upon his extravagance and fast life, and warned him
that he must check himself."

"He did right."

"What I dislike most about this John Tremlett was the way in which
he spoke of Uncle Matthew," said Ben.

"How did he speak of him?" demanded Marcus Benton quickly.

"As a tight-fisted old curmudgeon."

"He did--the young viper!" exclaimed the old man indignantly.
"Spoke so of the man who left him his fortune!"

"Yes, sir. I couldn't help telling him I thought it not very becoming to
speak in that way of his benefactor; and he told me to mind my own
business."

"I wouldn't have believed John Tremlett would act so," said Mr.
Benton slowly; "I trusted him so, and always treated him kindly."

"You trusted him!" repeated Ben, astonished.

"My boy," said Mr. Benton, "the time has come for me to throw off
the mask. I am not Marcus Benton, as you suppose. I am Matthew
Baldwin."

"But I thought Mr. Bald