Five Hundred Dollars | Page 3

as a mark of special
attention, and gazed with curiosity at the old man.
Jacob Marlowe, though coarsely clad, was scrupulously neat and clean,
and there was a pleasant smile on his bronzed face as he recognized his

nephew.
"I believe you are Uncle Jacob," said the squire, affably.
"Yes, Albert, and I'm mighty glad to see a relation. It's twenty-five
years since I have seen one that was kin to me."
"Welcome to Lakeville, Uncle Jacob. I am glad to see you. Percy told
me he met you on the road: Why didn't you ride up with him?"
"It wasn't worth gettin' in to ride a quarter of a mile. I am used to
exercise in California."
"To be sure. Come into the house, and lay your valise down anywhere.
Here is my wife, Mrs. Marlowe. Julia, this is Uncle Jacob, of whom
you have heard me speak so often."
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Marlowe," said the lady, formally, just
touching the old man's hand.
"Where are you going to put Uncle Jacob, Julia?" asked the squire.
"You may take him to the blue room," said Mrs. Marlowe, in a tone of
hesitation.
This blue room was the handsomest chamber in the house, and was
assigned to those whom it was considered politic to honor.
"Come right upstairs, Uncle Jacob. I'll show you your room myself,"
said Albert Marlowe.
"I ain't used to such luxury, Albert," said the old man, as he gazed
around the comfortably appointed apartment. "You ought to see my
cabin at Murphy's diggings. I reckon your servant would turn up her
nose at it."
"I know you don't care much for style in California, uncle."
"No, we don't, though we've got as handsome houses in 'Frisco as

anywhere else. Why, Albert, this room is fine enough for a prince."
"Then you can think yourself a prince," said the squire, genially. "Now,
if you want to wash your face and hands, and arrange your toilet, you
will have abundant time before dinner. Come down when you have
finished."
Albert Marlowe returned to his wife.
"Mr. Marlowe," said she, "are you very sure that old man is rich?"
"I have no doubt of it, Julia."
"But what an old fright he is! Why, he looks dreadfully common, and
his clothes are wretchedly shabby."
"True, Julia; but you must remember miners are not very particular
about their dress."
"I should think not, if he is a fair specimen. It makes me shudder to
think of his occupying the blue-room. The hall bedroom on the third
floor would have been good enough for him."
"Remember, my dear, he is in all probability very wealthy, and we are
his heirs. I am not so well off as people imagine, and it will be a great
thing for us to have a fortune of a quarter or half a million drop in by
and by."
"There's something in that, to be sure," the lady admitted. "But can't
you induce him to wear better clothes?"
"I will suggest it very soon. We mustn't be too precipitate, for fear he
should take offense. You know these rich uncles expect to be treated
with a good deal of consideration."
"Do you think he will expect to live with us? I shall really give up if I
have got to have such a looking old tramp as a permanent member of
the family."

"But, Julia, if he is really very rich, it is important for us to keep him
strictly in view. You know there will be plenty of designing persons,
who will be laying snares to entrap him, and get possession of his
money."
"How old is he? Is he likely to live long?"
"I think he must be about sixty-five."
"And he looks alarmingly healthy," said Mrs. Marlowe, with a sigh.
"His father died at sixty-seven."
Mrs. Marlowe brightened up. "That is encouraging," she said,
hopefully.
"I don't think he looks so very healthy," added the squire.
"He has a good color."
"His father was the picture of health till within a few weeks of his
death."
"What did he die of?"
"Apoplexy."
"To be sure. The old man looks as if he might go off that way."
"In that case we should only need to be troubled with him a couple of
years, and for that we should be richly repaid."
"They will seem like two eternities," groaned the lady, "and the chief
burden will come on me."
"You shall be repaid, my dear! Only treat him well!"
"Will you give me half what money he leaves to us?"

"Say one-third, Julia. That will repay you richly for all your trouble."
"Very well! Let it be a third. But, Mr. Marlowe, don't let there be any
mistake! I depend upon you to find