Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1898-06-16

the names, it will be
no particular breach of confidence to
mention, and tell it the more frankly
because it is little against myself,
and I must own that 1 did not act
quite upon what is called the square.
In fact, 1 played a part-a negative
kind of part-for 1 did nothing else
but hold my tongue. II I had spoken,
it, would have been fifty thousand
pounds or so out of truly honest
mans pocket and into rogue's; so,
somehow, 1 lei my feelings get the
better of my professional conscience,
and said not word.
Twas old John Hendricks's solicitor,
and looked after his property, for 1
had known him when he was a strug-
Cling man and was q young lawyer
with none too much practice. Then
I lost sight of him for twenty years, at
the end of which time 1 was still
plodding along respectfully, just hold
ing my own and nothing more, when,
going into one of the city taverns for
my regular daily chop, which 1 ate at
the same table for so many years that
I had become one of the institutions
of the place, I found myself opposite
to a yellow looking, thin, gray-haired
man, who kept on looking up from his
plate to stare at me very rudely 1
thought.
did not resent his stare at first,
but at last it became SO unpleasant
that determined to look him down,
and gazed firmly into his eyes.
"Why, it isl" he exclaimed. "Dick,
old boy, don't you know me?"
'Tbat's Jack Hendricks's voice." I
exclaimed, nearly upsetting my plate
and the next moment we were sitting
there, hand clasped in hand, and with
the tears in our eyes, looking very
foolish and weak, 1 dare say, to the
other occupants of the room; but that
did not trouble US, for we had too
much to say to each other.
John Hendricks told me that he had
been in the north Of India, close to
Nepaul, for over twenty years. He
had gone out as factor to an indigo
grower, and Lad become q grower
himself.
"And now," he said, IT have come
to look after my dead sisters sons and
to die"
"Well, oldfellow," I said, "the first
parts right enough, but as to the dy-
ing, think it's as we'll to leave that
alone. 1t will be all settled for you.
The only thing with respect to that,
speaking as O professional man, is to
make your will, if you have anything
to leave, and then make the most OF
your span"
"Have you made yours, Dick?" he
said sharply.
81? No." said laughing. "I've
nothing to leave, jack" and then we
went into mutual sonfdences; and
after I had told him of my own hard
working life, he gave me to under
stand that he had made very large
fortune in indigo, and spent very little
on himself.
Mines been too hard working a
life, Dick" he said, "for me to be
much of spender; but it will be a
fine thing for Jenny's two boys if-if
| like them," he added sharply. And
then, with quiet, subdued look,
'Poor Jenny! 1 should have liked to
see her again."
John Hendricks was fifteen years
my senior, but we became once more
the closest of friends, for he seemed
to resume his old protective way over
me, but trusting me most fully in
every point.
1t was all done in quiet, unosten-
tatious way, but from the day of John
Hendricks's return the world began
to smile on me. l had a great deal OF
professional business to do for him,
and as he had most extensive connee-
tions among old indigo planters, l
found them coming to me, right and
left, by his recommendation; so that
very soon, in place of finding it hard
work to keep one clerk, had very
hard work for four, and big balance
at my bank.
But 1 am getting on too fast.
Before long [ met the two nephews
at their uncles quiet little house al
Chelsea, and as we sat at dinner
could not help thinking how kindly
fortune was behaving to the young
men to place them in the way of sucl
expectations; and before L left it wa:
plain enough to me which was the un
cle's favorite.
This was Philip, n frank-faced
young fellow of two or three-and-
twenty, very gentlemanly in his ways
and decidedly good-looking. while he