I am
gone go there and get the money, but don't let anyone see you. It will be
best to go at night. There are evil-disposed men who would rob you of it.
I am sorry it is so little, Ernest."

"But it seems to me a good deal."

"To a boy it may seem so. Once I thought I might have a good deal more to
leave you. Go to the trunk and search till you find a paper folded in an
envelope with your name."

Ernest went to the trunk. He found the envelope readily, and held it up.

"Is that it, uncle?"

"Yes. Put it in your pocket, and read it after I am gone. Then be guided
by circumstances. It may amount to something hereafter."

"Very well, uncle."

"I have told you, Ernest, that I do not expect to live long. I have a
feeling that twenty-four hours from now I shall be gone."

"Oh, no, uncle, not so soon!" exclaimed Ernest in a shocked tone.

"Yes, I think so. If you have any questions to ask me while I yet have
life, ask, for it is your right."

"Yes, Uncle Peter, I have long wished to know something about myself. Have
I any relatives except you?"

"I am not your relative," answered the old man slowly.

"Are you not my uncle?" he asked.

"No; there is no tie of blood between us."

"Then how does it happen that we have lived together so many years?"

"I was a servant in your father's family. When your father died the care
of you devolved upon me."

"Where was I born?"

"In a large town in the western part of New York State. Your grandfather
was a man of wealth, but your father incurred his displeasure by his
marriage to a poor but highly educated and refined girl. A cousin of your
father took advantage of this and succeeded in alienating father and son.
The estate that should have descended to your father was left to the
cousin."

"Is he still living?"

"Yes."

"But my father died?"

"Yes; he had a fever which quickly carried him off when you were five
years of age."

"Was he very poor?"

"No; he inherited a few thousand dollars from an aunt, and upon this he
lived prudently, carrying on a small business besides. Your mother died
when you were three years old, your father two years later."

"And then you took care of me?"

"Yes."

"And I have been a burden to you these many years!"

"No! Don't give me too much credit. A sum of money was put into my hands
to spend for you. We lived carefully, and it lasted. We have been here
three years, and it has cost very little to live in that time. The hund