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"But people when they make their wills don't usually tell everybody in the house what they put into them. It's a sort of confidential matter, don't you understand?"
"I'll wager you know all about it, Roy," broke in Rex suddenly, dropping the biscuit he was b.u.t.tering and staring at his brother fixedly for a moment "I shouldn't be surprised if the old fellow had made you his heir for what you did for him."
"Well, if he did, "answered Roy with a smile, "it wouldn't enable you to take that trip to Canada, as he isn't dead yet and may live to be ninety."
"He's just the kind that do hang on," remarked Jess. "People that n.o.body seems to care about generally do."
"That reminds me, mother," added Rex, "if I don't go on this trip there'll be a lot of money saved. Can't I have some of it spent for a new tennis suit? I need one badly."
Mrs. Pell smiled, a little sadly though.
"My dear boy," she rejoined, "there is your patent method of manufacturing money again. You conceive a desire for something very expensive, then when you give that up and select something much cheaper, you imagine that you have saved more than enough to pay for it."
"It's a thundering grind to be decently poor any way." Rex pushed back his chair suddenly, his brow clouded with a frown as it had been the afternoon before down on the log.
"'Decently poor!' What do you mean by that, Rex?" asked Eva.
"Oh, to have the taste and wish for nice things and the privilege of going with nice people who own them, and yet not be able to have them yourself. I sometimes wish I was like black Pete. He doesn't know any better than to be contented if he makes a dollar or two a week."
"Oh, Reggie, Reggie!" murmured Mrs. Pell sadly.
This one of her boys caused her more anxiety than all the other children combined. He was so proud, so aspiring, and yet he had not half the ability of Roy, who was rather overshadowed by the other's dashing, winning manner. For Rex could be charming when he so minded.
He went out on the side piazza now and began to shy strawberries at two of the puppies. The berries had just been picked and left by the cook on the window sill for the girls to hull.
"Rex," exclaimed Roy severely, coming out upon him suddenly. "Aren't you ashamed to use those berries in that way?"
Roy hated waste above all things.
Rex checked the toss he was about to make, and transferred the berry to his mouth instead.
"Has your majesty any objections to that disposition of the fruit?" he asked with an a.s.sumption of the courtliness that became him so well.
"Well, it's a legitimate disposition at any rate," returned Roy. Then he went out to the barn to feed the chickens and look after the cow, for the Pells kept no hired man. The boys attended to the kitchen garden-- at least Roy did most of it, and there had been no horses kept by the family since shortly after Mr. Pell's death.
This was another of Rex's trials.
"Think of living in the country without a horse!" he would exclaim.
"And then to have the stable on the place into the bargain! It's enough to make the horse we haven't got laugh."
To be sure he had plenty of rides. The Bowmans who came down to Marley for the summer, were very fond of him, and nearly every day during the summer Scott took him out in his cart.
But Rex sighed to return this hospitality. All of his friends were glad to come down to the Pellery, as Rex called it, for Mrs. Pell was a great favorite and the young people were lively and bright. Rex fretted, however, because he had no "attractions" to offer them.
He was feeling particularly gloomy this morning. Having exhausted himself in regretting the good time he would lose in not being able to go with the Bowmans, he had taken to lamenting his condition here in Marley during vacation with Scott away. He was not so fond of reading as was Roy, and without plenty of congenial society, he was apt to find that time hung heavy on his hands.
Scott had gone to Philadelphia this morning to make some purchases for his journey. He would not he back till afternoon. Rex had not yet planned what to do with himself in the meantime.
"Where are you going?" he called out presently, when he saw Roy walking down toward the gate.
"Over to Mr. Tyler's to see how he is. Want to come?"
"I believe I do," answered Rex slowly. "Hold on a minute till I get my cap."
Roy was rather surprised that his brother should wish to go. He wondered just how Mr. Tyler would like his bringing him. Then he remembered what the miser had said about Rex reminding him somewhat of Maurice Darley and thought perhaps he might be glad to see him on this account.
It was cooler than it had been the previous day. The country about Marley and Burdock was beautiful, extremely rolling and rich in vegetation, so the walk was a pleasant one.
"Say, did Mr. Tyler really have Syd make his will last night?" asked Rex as they were crossing the covered bridge over the creek.
"Yes," answered Roy.
"Did he have much to leave?" went on Rex, stooping down as they emerged on the road again, to pluck a tall blade of gra.s.s which he began to munch between his white teeth.
"About half a million." Roy thought he might as well tell this. He knew that if he tried to evade the question his brother would be apt to think he was keeping something back.
"What?" Rex stopped stock still in the road to utter the exclamation.
"That old bag of bones worth half a million dollars! Nonsense."
"I think it's more likely he should be worth that amount," returned Roy, "than the Bowmans, for instance, who seem to spend their income right up to the handle. You know everybody has always thought Mr.
Tyler had money."
"I know they have, but such a sum as that!"
Rex walked on again, knitting his brows in thought. There was silence between the boys while they ascended the hill on the opposite side of the creek. Then as they reached the top, Rex was about to ask another question when Roy clutched his arm suddenly.
"Look there," he cried. "Isn't that undertaker Green's wagon in front of the house? Mr. Tyler must be dead!"
CHAPTER V
BREAKING THE NEWS
"Great Caesar, Roy! What's come over you?"
Rex was staring in amazement at his brother, who had turned quite white at the sight of the undertaker's wagon standing in front of the miser's home. He had halted and gone off to one side of the road to lean against a tree, where he stood now, mopping his face with his handkerchief.
"I hadn't any idea he would die so soon," he said. "It seems like an awful shock, although I do remember that Dr. Martin said he was in a pretty bad way. And he asked me to come and see him to-day; I mean Mr.
Tyler did. I wonder when he died."
"What luck for his heirs," remarked Rex.
"Don't!" cried Roy, starting forward as if to place his hand over his brother's mouth. "You don't know what you're saying."
"Well, I suppose it was a little rough when the old man's scarcely cold perhaps. I say, aren't you going on? We can find out just when he died, you know."
Mechanically Roy followed his brother, his eyes still fixed on that black wagon. He could not realize it yet. Mr. Tyler dead so soon after making that will which left Mrs. Pell all his money. No more poverty for them. The stable need no longer be empty and--
Roy checked these thoughts with a half suppressed exclamation of disgust. It seemed sacrilegious to be speculating in this fashion on the gain from the death of the old man who had been so fond of life, for all he had made such poor use of it.