The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1898-06-08

because it is o little against myself,
and l must own that l did not act
quite upon what is called the square.
In fact, played part-a negative
kind of part-for / did nothing else
but hold my tongue. If had spoken,
it would have been fifty thousand
pounds or so out of truly honest
mans pocket and into rogue's; so,
somehow, / lei my feelings get the
better of my professional conscience,
and / said not word.
Twas old John Hendricks's solicitor,
aud looked after his property, for l
had known him when he was strug-
Cling man and l was young lawyer
with none too much practice. Then
lost sight of him for twenty years, at
the end of which time l was still
plodding along respectfully, just hold
ing my own aud nothing more, when,
going into one Of the city taverns for
my regular daily chop, which / ate at
the same table for so many years that
had become one of the institutions
OF the place, l found myself opposite
to yellow-looking, thin, gray-haired
man, who kept on looking up from his
plate to stare at me very rudely l
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 is!' he exclaimed. "Dick,
old boy, don't you know me?'
"That'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 aud 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 grower
himself.
"And now," he said, 81 have come
to look after my dead sisters sons and
Ito die"
"Well, ldfellow, 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 a professional man, is to
make your will, if you have anything
to leave, aud then make the most of
your span" ."
''Have you made yours, Dick?" he
said sharply.
"I? No." said laughing. GIVE
nothing to leave, jack" and then we
went into mutual condolences; 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 q
life, Dick, he said, "for me to be
much of a spender; but it will be a
fine thing for Jenny's two boys if--if
I like them,' he added sharply. And
then, with quiet, subdued look,
"Poor Jenny! i 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 a quiet, unosten-
tatious way, but from the day of John
.Hendricks's return the world began
to smile on me. l had great deal Of
professional business to do for him,
and as he had most extensive connec-
tions among old indigo planters, 1
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 am getting on too fast.
Before long met the two nephews
at their uncles quiet little house at
Chelsea, and as we sat at dinner 1
could not help thinking how kindly
fortune was behaving to the young
men to place them in the way of such
expectations; and before 1 left it was
plain enough to me which was the un-
cles favorite.
This was Philip, a frank-faced
young fellow of two or three-and-
twenty, very gentlemanly i'll his ways,
and decidedly good-looking, while he