Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1898-02-13
The LulI OF the Waves.

by his neighbors to a great extent. He
had always remained on good terms
with his nephews, however, and he had
many times told Ben that after his
death the house and land would come
to him, While to VIII he had promised
"a tidy bit of money
The farmhouse was some three miles
distant from the fishing hamlet, and
the two men plodded along the dark
roads, each possessed Of his own
thoughts. A looker-on might have
guessed at the diversity of their inner
moods by Ben's light step and gay
whistle, and by Wills bent head and
logged, resolute march.
How is my uncle?" asked Ben.
SOLDERING mis- demeanor to one of more
suitable gravity as they entered the
house.
Going fast" said the old housekeep-
er who met them in the passage. Il
doubt he won't know you"
The words gave them a shock, for
neither had guessed the end was so
near, and forgetting their own
thoughts. they went up the old stair
case and entered the whitewashed
room where the dying man lay. Each
IN turn bent over him, but they gained
no look or word, for Jacob Burnham
was already unconscious and sinking
fast down into death.
when did the doctor see him last?''
asked Ben.
Not since this morning." said the
cold he oo,,ydp,+ 10
him no good"
He ought to see him again, all the
same'' said Ben. Suppose you go and
fetch him, Will"
Will was nothing 10th Manlike, he
Ionged to be doing something, for it
was dreadful to him to stand there
helpless, watching the laboring breath.
1t was past midnight before he return
ed; but although the doctor came with
him. he proved as helpless as he had
expected to be, and together they
waited and watched till the last sigh
broke from the old mans lips and all
was over.
VIII felt strangely awed as he and
his brother walked home in the dawn
of the early morning; the grey shadow
that he had just seen creeping over
that dying face seemed to have
touched his own heart and blotted BIT
the fierce passions that had been
struggling there but a few hours be-
fore. Why should he hate Ben? 1t
was little wonder that he should love
Agnes; and since only one could win
the prize, he ought to be unselfsh
enough to rejoice in his brothers joy.
Ben he said, suddenly breaking
the silence, forgive me; l have been
thinking hard things of you
What right have you to dare to dc
such a thing, them" cried Ben, wheel
ing around upon him angrily.
His tone cut Will to the quick, jar
ring away all his softer thoughts; and
to prevent himself from a fierce retort
| he held his peace for the rest of the
way.
The day of the funeral came, and
after all was over, the lawyer showed
| the Will to the two brothers. 1t was
exactly what they had been led to ex-
poet; house and land were left to
| Ben, and ito my younger nephew
William, such moneys as | may be
possessed of after all outstanding ac-
counts have been paid"
Your uncle never banked his mon
ey, said the lawyer; therefore
have 20 doubt that we shall find a
sum of money in his chest. There are
very few debts, as everything was
paid up to the end Of last quarter"
The chest was duly opened, and the
lawyer produced large leather bag.
You had better both of you be
present while | count it," he said
and, untying its mouth, heap OF
coin rolled out upon the table.
Twenty-Five pounds he said, with
puzzled air. When he had finished
his counting. This is all silver; the
gold must be somewhere else"
But though they searched high and
low, now gold was discoverable; and
great was the wonder of all who heard
the tale, for Jacob Burnham had been
a saving man all his days, and the
neighbors had expected to hear OF
sacks of money at the very least
There's been foul play some
where" was the general verdict, but
where it had been was not so easy to
decide, for only two people had ever
had access TO the old mans room
the housekeeper, whom no one could
tnlnh Oh accusing Tor moment, and
Zeke Brown, the half-witted yard boy
who had slept in the house during the
masters illness.
Poor Zeke stared wildly from under
his shock of unkempt hair when he
was subjected to cTOss-examination
but no questions could elicit anything
from him beyond the fact that mas
ter had a sight O money in his box.
When asked how he knew this, he
confessed that he had seen it; but how
or when he could not tell.
81 am afraid it is hopeless said
Ben, when Zeke had been sent back tc
the yard.
Since this new calamity had fallen
upon VIII, he had found Ben as kind
and friendly as he had ever been in
days Of old, and he was almost inclin-
ed 10 bless the loss that had drawn
them together again. Still, it was a
loss, there was no denying; especially
now, when his sore heart would have
been glad of the relief of the change
of scene and occupation. But though
it fell heavily upon him, he was re-
solved that Zeke should not be tor
mented. 1t was not at all unlikely
that he had seen his master go to