reet
dress, when a tall man, with a frank, good humored expression, stepped
up to him.

"Are you Christopher Watson?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Kit, in surprise, for he had no recollection of having
met the stranger before.

"Of course you don't know me, but I was a school-fellow and intimate
friend of your father."

"Then," said Kit, cordially, "I must take you by the hand. All my
father's friends are my friends."

The face of the stranger lighted up.

"That's the way to talk," he said. "I see you are like your father.
Shake hands again."

"But how did you know I was with Barlow's circus?" asked Kit, puzzled.

"Your uncle told me."

"Have you seen him lately?" asked Kit, quickly.

"No; I saw him about three months ago at Smyrna."

"What did he tell you about me?"

"He said you were a wayward lad, and preferred traveling with a circus
to following an honest business."

"I am afraid you have got a wrong idea of me, then."

"Bless you, I knew your uncle before you were born. He is not at all
like your father. One was as open as the day, the other was cunning,
selfish, and foxy."

"I see you understand my Uncle Stephen as well as I do."

"I ought to."

"Were you surprised to hear that I was traveling with a circus?"

"Well, I was; but your uncle told me one thing that surprised me more.
He said that your father left nothing."

"That surprised me, too; but I have got some light on the subject and I
feel in need of a friend and adviser."

"Then if you'll take Henry Miller for want of a better, I don't believe
you'll regret it."

"I shall be glad to accept your kind offer, Mr. Miller. Now that you
mention your name, I remember it very well. My father often spoke of
you."

"Did he so?" said the stranger, evidently much gratified. "I am glad to
hear it. Of all my school companions, your father was the one I liked
best. And now, before we go any further, I want to tell you two things.
First, I should have hunted you up sooner, but business called me to
California, where I have considerable property. Next, having learned
that you were left destitute, I decided to do something for the son of
my old friend. So I took a hundred shares of stock in a new mine, which
had just been put on the market when I reached 'Frisco, and I said to
myself: 'That is for Kit Watson.' Well, it was a lucky investment. The
shares cost me five dollars apiece, and just before I left California I
sold them for fifty dollars