The record-union., 1896-10-04

the side pocket Of his coat before his
uncle, with hat on, and muffied up for
going out. suddenly stood before him.
"Hullo!" growled the old man, blink
ing in the sunlight; so you are here!'
Yes uncle" replied GascOigne
TREMENDOUSLY; didn't Rogers tell your
He never tells me anything, the lazy
scoundrel," grumbled old Barker. shuf-
fling in, and giving his nephew dis
tOrted forefinger to shake. What do
you want?"
called to INQUIRE was sorry to
hear you had been so unwell,' said Gas
coigne, thanking his stars that he had
not left the lid Of the tin box open.
so have; but you are disappointed,
you see. Im nearly right again. l was
just going out" snarled his uncle. ad-
vancing to the tin box as he spoke.
Gascoigne's heart stood still as the old
| man lifted the lid of the box. He ap-
parently remembered that he had left it
unlocked, and the action was evidently
designed to assure himself Of the fact.
Had he laid a trap for his nephew and
entered the room abruptly with the
idea that he would find him prying?
Such project would not have been for
eign to the old gentleman's disposition,
and GaScOigne trembled lest his uncle
might open the box. But apparently
this suspicion was groundless or else
Gascoigne's position at the window had
been suggestive Of innocence At all
events, old Barker proceeded to lug out
his keys from his ,breeches pocket and
locked up the box with shaky hand.
can l do that for you, uncle?" in
CURED Gascoigne, prompted by a wild
nope Of being able to slip in the will
unobserved
NO, you stay where you are!" said
MS uncle over his shoulder. This is
where | keep my WILL You would like
to see 1T, I dare say?'
No, indeed, SIR" said Gascoigne has
tily, dreading that his uncle might be
disposed to crafty him.
Not curious enough. eh?" snarled
ola Barker. We'll, that's a good thing.
You would be disappointed, I can tell
you. Don't expect anything from me-"
very, well, sir" said Gascoigne, too
much overwhelmed by the conscious
ness OF having the will in his pocket to
appreciate the humor Of the situation.
quite disinterested, eh? Mark my
words, young man; not one farthing
VIII you get from me till you are max
ing toOo year by your profession. Do
you hear?" cried the old gentleman.
cooking his eye at him.
Yes, sir" answered Gascoigne. with
tolerable composure.
Then you had better set about it
Not but what you have plenty of time"
ne added hastily. I'm good for twenty
years yet-the doctor says So"
I'm glad to hear it," said Gascoigne
dutifu1ly
NO. you're not. All the same, it is
as well for you that you should have a
1ew years to work up practice in, for
II | were to die tomorrow, you would
get nothing
Are you going out, sir?" inquired
Gascoigne, puzzled what to say to this
enigmatical utterance
Yes; I'm going to take that box to
my bank. You can come with me, and
pay half the cab fare replied his
| uncle, chuckling at this characteristic
joke.
He rang the bell and sent his man for
cab, to which, in due course, Gas
coigne escorted his amiable relative,
while the porter carried the tin box. If
his uncle had been in an observant
mood he would have remarked that the
young man submitted with much better
grace than usual to his jokes and sar-
casms. This was hardly surprising. for
it is not difficult to be long suffering
with an elderly relation when one
knows he has manifested his benevo-
lence in the most effectual manner. On
the her hand tho I'd foa hot
he was carrying off, clandestinely, the
old mans will was sufficiently discon-
certing to render Gascoigne a trif1e alb
sent.
When he had deposited his uncle and
his tin box at the bank-after duly
paying his moiety of the cab fare
Gascoigne had leisure to reflect upon
the predicament he had placed himself
In. Needless to say that he bitterly re-
pented of his objectionable curiosity;
t. would be more just to dwell upon his
honest shame at what he had done It
seemed to him that only two courses
were open to him; one, the more hon
orable, was to return the document
frankly to his uncle; the other, to keep
it carefully and say nothing. The lat
ter plan was the one which he finally
adopted, not so much from self-inter-
ested motives as because he could not
bring himself to face the old mans
wrath. The more he thought about the
matter the more bitterly ashamed and
humiliated he felt. AS for the fortune,
he regarded that as absolutely and for
ever forfeited, whichever course he
took. If he confessed his fault he
knew that his uncle would ruthlessly
strike out his name. The same thing
would happen if he kept his own coun-
sci, for it was inevitable that the old
man must, sooner or later, miss his will
and it would be quite natural and easy
to conjecture how it had disappeared.
In Gascoigne's view, he had only
choice of evils; and he simply elected
to spare himself the scourge of his
uncle's tongue.
There are natures which need the
stimulus of some unforeseen event or
misfortune to awake their slumbering
energies. This was the case with Gas
coigne, for being firmly convinced that
the result of what he had done would
be to deprive him of his looked for in
heritance, he applied himself from that
day forward to the drudgery of earning
his livelihood. He had many friends
and some influential connections. but.
more important still, he possessed tai
ent to which he had never hitherto at
tempted to do justice. A lucky chance,
the absence of a learned leader in a no.
toriouS case, affording him an opportu-
nifty of making a name, and almost
without effort-so great a lottery is
success at the bar-he found himself in