ormal demand for the
property?"

"What in the name of all that's unlucky can have brought that boy here at
this time?" Stephen Ray was saying to himself.

He never for an instant doubted Ernest's identity--in fact, he could not
well have done so, for he bore a strong resemblance to Dudley Ray.

Stephen Ray's curiosity was excited. Ernest did not appear like the
average poor relation. He was quite as well dressed as Clarence. Besides,
he had registered at a high-priced hotel, which showed that he was not
cramped for means.

This gave him satisfaction, as it made it less likely that he would appeal
to him for assistance.

Stephen Ray was rather surprised that Clarence made no further reference
to Ernest. Had he known that the two had had a conversation he would have
been seriously disturbed. He hoped that Bolton would not get hold of the
boy.

CHAPTER XXXV

MR. BOLTON AND HIS CLIENT

Benjamin Bolton sat at his desk in the law office of Albert Norcross, on
Nassau Street. He was well, even handsomely dressed, and looked very
unlike the shabby tramp who had called months before at the house of
Stephen Ray.

He was really a man of ability which his employer had found out. He had
raised Bolton's salary to a liberal figure, and felt that in securing his
services he had made a real acquisition.

Bolton was absorbed in preparation for a case which had been assigned to
him, when a boy came to his desk with a card.

Bolton no sooner read the name, "Ernest Ray," than he became eager and
excited.

"Tell him to come in," he said.

Ernest, quiet and self-possessed, entered the office and approached the
lawyer's desk.

"Are you Mr. Bolton?" he asked.

"Yes, and you----"

"I am Ernest Ray."

Benjamin Bolton looked keenly at the boy, admiring his handsome face and
manly bearing.

"I see your father's looks in you," he said.

"Then you knew my father?" said Ernest.

"Yes. We were young men together."

"I am glad to meet you, then."

"You come from California?"

"Yes."

"I judge from your appearance that you have not suffered from poverty."

"I have been fortunate at Oreville. At Oak Forks I lived very humbly with
Peter Brant, an old servant of my father."

"Yes, I remember Peter. Is he alive still?"

"No, he died a little less than a year since. Till his death I thought him
my uncle and knew no other relatives. Before he died he told me who I
was."

"How did he live?"

"On a small sum left