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mild sarcasm.

      "I am sure that is very good pay for a boy of his age."

      "It is a small sum for a family of three persons to live upon, Solon."

      "Um, ah! I thought perhaps you might earn something else."

      "Sometimes I earn as high as a dollar and a half a week making shirts."

      Mr. Talbot thought it best to drop the subject.

      "I am deeply sorry for you," he said. "It is a pity your husband didn't insure his life. He might have left you in comfort."

      "He did make application for insurance, but his lungs were already diseased, and the application was refused."

      "I may be able to help you – in a small way, of course," proceeded Solon Talbot.

      Mark looked up in surprise. Was it possible that his close-fisted uncle was offering to assist them.

      Mrs. Mason did not answer, but waited for developments.

      "I have already paid you seventy-five dollars from your father's estate," resumed Mr. Talbot. "Strictly speaking, it is all you are entitled to. But I feel for your position, and – and your natural disappointment, and I feel prompted to make it a hundred dollars by paying you twenty-five dollars more. I have drafted a simple receipt here, which I will get you to sign, and then I will hand you the money."

      He drew from his wallet a narrow slip of paper, on which was written this form:

      "Received from Solon Talbot the sum of One Hundred Dollars, being the full amount due me from the estate of my late father, Elisha Doane, of which he is the administrator."

      Mr. Talbot placed the paper on the table, and pointing to a black line below the writing, said, "Sign here."

      "Let me see the paper, mother," said Mark.

      He read it carefully.

      "I advise you not to sign it," he added, looking up.

      "What do you mean?" exclaimed Solon Talbot angrily.

      "I mean," returned Mark firmly, "that mother has no means of knowing that a hundred dollars is all that she is entitled to from grandfather's estate."

      "Didn't I tell you it was?" demanded Talbot frowning.

      "Uncle Solon," said Mark calmly, "I am only a boy, but I know that one can't be too careful in business matters."

      "Do you dare to doubt my father's word?" blustered Edgar.

      "Our business is with your father, not with you," said Mark.

      "What is it you want?" asked Solon Talbot irritably.

      "I want, or rather mother does, to see a detailed statement of grandfather's property, and the items of his debts and expenses."

      Solon Talbot was quite taken aback by Mark's demand. He had supposed the boy knew nothing of business.

      "Really," he said, "this impertinence from my own nephew is something I was by no means prepared for. It is a poor return for my liberal offer."

      "Your liberal offer?"

      "Yes, the twenty-five dollars I offered your mother is out of my own pocket – offered solely out of consideration for her poverty. Do I understand," he asked, addressing his sister-in-law, "that you decline my offer?"

      Mrs. Mason looked doubtfully at Mark. Twenty-five dollars in their present circumstances would be a boon, and, in addition to Mark's earnings, would tide them over at least three months. Was it right, or wise, to decline it?

      Mark's face showed no signs of wavering. He was calm and resolute.

      "What do you think, Mark?" asked his mother.

      "You know what I think, mother. We have no knowledge that the estate has been fairly administered, and you would be bartering away our rights."

      "I think I won't sign the receipt, Solon," said Mrs. Mason.

      Solon Talbot looked very angry.

      "Then," he replied, "I cannot give you the twenty-five dollars. Edgar, we will go."

      "Give my love to Mary," faltered Mrs. Mason.

      Solon Talbot deigned no answer, but strode from the room with an angry look.

      "Mother, I am convinced that Uncle Solon was trying to swindle us," said Mark.

      "I hope we have done right, Mark," rejoined his mother doubtfully.

      "What is this, mother?" asked Mark, as he picked up from the floor a letter partially torn.

      "It must have been dropped by Solon Talbot."

      CHAPTER IV

      A NIGHT AT DALY'S

      "I will read this letter to see if it is of any importance," said Mark. "In that case I will forward it to Syracuse."

      He read as follows:

"Wall Street Exchange.

      "Dear Sir: In reference to the mining stock about which you inquire, our information is that the mine is a valuable one, and very productive. The stock is held in few hands, and it is difficult to obtain it. You tell me that it belongs to an estate of which you are the administrator. I advise you to hold it awhile longer before you seek to dispose of it. We are about to send an agent to Nevada to look after some mining interests of our own, and will authorize him also to look up the Golden Hope mine.

"Yours truly,"Crane & Lawton,"Stock and Mining Brokers."

      Mother and son looked at each other significantly.

      Finally Mark said, "This mining stock must have belonged to grandfather."

      "Yes; I remember now his alluding to having purchased a hundred shares of some mine."

      "The brokers say they are valuable. Yet Uncle Solon has never said anything about them. Mother, he means to defraud us of our share in this property, supposing that we will hear nothing about it."

      "How shameful!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason indignantly. "I will sit right down and write him a letter taxing him with his treachery."

      "No, mother; I don't want you to do anything of the kind."

      "You don't want us to submit to imposition? That don't sound like you, Mark."

      "I mean that he shall give us whatever is our due, but I don't want him to suspect that we know anything of his underhand schemes. He hasn't sold the mining stock yet."

      "What do you want me to do?"

      "Leave the matter in my hands, mother. I will keep the letter, and it will always be evidence against him. He is shrewd, and will get full value for the stock. Then we can make him hand you your share."

      "If you think that is best, Mark," said Mrs. Mason doubtfully. "I haven't much of a head for business."

      "I think I have, mother. There is nothing I like better."

      "Did you see Mrs. Mack about a loan? I didn't think to ask you, as your uncle came in with you when you returned from up-stairs."

      "Yes, I saw her, but it was of no use."

      "Then she won't lend us the money?"

      "No, she is afraid to, though I offered her twenty-five cents interest. I told her that I should have nine dollars coming in on Saturday, but she thought something might prevent my getting it."

      "Then I had better pawn my ring. The landlord won't wait even a day for his money."

      "Don't be in a hurry, mother. The rent is not due till day after to-morrow, and something may happen between now and then to put me in funds."

      "Perhaps you are right, Mark."

      Five minutes later there was a knock at the door. Opening it, Mark saw another telegraph boy in the entrance. He had a paper in his hand.

      "You're to go there," he said, handing Mark a card. "Put on your best clothes. It's a lady to take to the theater."

      "All right, Jimmy. I'll be ready in a jiffy. Do you know

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