Two Boys and a Fortune | Page 5

the taxes to pay."
The old man now relapsed into silence. He seemed to be thinking,
deeply. Suddenly he started up and exclaimed:
"It must be nearly time for Sydney to be here. Won't you go outside and
watch for him?"
Roy was very glad to leave the miser. He realized that perhaps it was
wrong for him to feel that way, but then, believing him to be a little
unbalanced, it was but natural that he should be sensible of some
constraint in his presence.
"I wonder if be has got $500,000 put away somewhere?" he asked

himself when he reached the little portico. "He talked exactly as if he
was going to give it to me. I suppose for what I did for him on the
bridge. That would be just like a story episode, so much like one that
there's no chance of its coming true. But what would Rex say if it did?
Ah, here comes Syd."
Roy left the porch and hurried out to the gate to meet the fellow who
had been nearer and dearer to him than a brother as far back as he could
remember.
"Poor old chap," he said as they met and he turned around, slipping his
arm within that of the tall young lawyer, "it was a shame to make you
walk all that distance in the hot sun when you must be tired out from
your day in town. But there's a job at the end of the walk."
"And a cheerful brother, too," added the other. "Poor Rex! I saw him
over at the station. He takes it terribly to heart that he cannot go off
with the Bowmans. I wish I were rich, if only for you boys' sakes. But
what's this heroic deed I hear of your doing for old Mr. Tyler?
Positively, Roy, I'm proud of you."
"Oh, the train didn't come along for a good five minutes after I'd got
him off the trestle. You see that takes a good deal of the 'heroic rescue'
business out of the thing. But come on inside. He's been quite anxious
to see you. I've made him lie down, for I think he's in a very bad way."
CHAPTER III
MR. TYLER'S WILL
"Is that you, Sydney Pell?" called out Mr. Tyler as soon as he heard
footsteps in the hallway.
"Yes, Mr. Tyler, What can I do for you?" and Sydney followed Roy
into the bedroom.
"You can make my will," replied the old man promptly. "That doesn't
mean that I am going to die right away," he added hastily, "but I've had

a warning. Why, I may have time to make two or three wills before I
give up the ship."
He laughed hoarsely and started to get up. But he was weaker than he
supposed, and fell back on the bed with a little gasp just as he had done
out by the trestle.
"Don't exert yourself too much, Mr. Tyler," said Sydney. "I can fix the
thing up for you while you are lying right here. I think I saw a bottle of
ink and some paper in the other room. Roy can help me bring in that
table that stands there, and then I can take down whatever you wish and
you can sign it. But you will want witnesses."
"There's Ann, she can be one," responded the old man.
"And I told the girls to send a doctor up here. He can be another," put
in Roy. Then he added, when all was arranged: "I suppose I had better
go out."
"Yes, you can go out and watch for the doctor," said Sydney. "Now
then," he went on, turning to Mr. Tyler when they were alone, and after
he had written out the regulation formal preamble, "I am ready."
The miser said nothing in reply for a minute or two. He kept
interlocking his wasted fingers with one another, glancing now and
then out of the window, where he could see Roy pacing back and forth
in front of the cottage. Finally he murmured so low that Sydney was
obliged to bend forward to catch the words:
"Would you be surprised to hear that I had a vast amount of money in
the deposit companies in Philadelphia?"
"No, Mr. Tyler," replied Sydney. "It has always been supposed that you
were a man of wealth."
"I am, I am," muttered the miser. "I have something like half a million.
And yet what good has it done me? I have hoarded it just for the sake
of hoarding. It began to come to me when I was quite young. I was

surprised. Some property was wanted by the city. They paid me well
for it. I invested what I got and doubled it, I kept