swered Uncle Terry, "but nothin' cum on't. I
guess my report is thar in Washington now, if it ain't lost."

"And do I understand you wish to retain me as your counsel in this
matter, and lay claim to this estate, Mr. Terry?" continued Frye.

"Wal, I've told ye the facts," replied Uncle Terry, "an' if the gal's
got money comin' I'd like to see her git it. What's goin' to be the cost
o' doin' the business?"

"The matter of expense is hard to state in such a case as this,"
answered Frye cautiously. "The estate is a large one; there may be, and
no doubt will be, other claimants; litigation may follow, and so the
cost is an uncertain one. I shall be glad to act for you in this matter,
and will do so if you retain me."

It is said that those who hesitate are lost, and at this critical moment
Uncle Terry hesitated.

He did not like the looks of Frye. He suspected him to be what he was--a
shrewd, smooth, plausible villain. Had he obeyed his first impulse he
would have picked up his hat and left Frye to wash his hands with
invisible soap, and laid his case before some other lawyer, but he
hesitated. Frye, he knew, had the matter in his hands and might make the
claim that his story was false and fight it with all the legal weapons
Uncle Terry so much dreaded. In the end he decided to put the matter in
Frye's hands and hope for the best.

"I shall want you to send me a detailed story of this wreck, sworn to by
yourself and wife," said Frye, "also all the articles found on this
child; and I will lay your affidavits before the attorneys for this
estate, and report progress to you later on."

When Uncle Terry turned his face towards home his pocket was lighter by
two hundred dollars. With most of us when we take an uncertain step, the
farther we get from it the more sure we become that it was an unwise
one, and it was so with Uncle Terry.

"I s'posed I'd git skinned," he muttered to himself after he was well on
his way home, "an' I reckon I have! That dum thief, like all the rest o'
lawyers, knows a farmer at sight, an' when he ketches one he takes his
hay! He's taken mine fur sartin an' I begin to think I'm a consarned old
fool, that don't know 'nuff to go in when it rains! How I'm goin' to
git the wimmin to give up them trinkets, 'thout 'lowin' I've lost my
senses, is one too many fur me!"

CHAPTER XV

THE VALUE OF GOOD EXAMPLE

It has been well said that we grow to be like our nearest neighbors, and
the effec