"Know Jane Merrick?" asked the stranger.
The boy nodded.
"Like her?"
"I hate her," he said, savagely.
The man laughed, a bit uneasily.
"Then it's the same Jane as ever," he responded, with a shake of his
grizzled head. "Do you know, I sort o' hoped she'd reformed, and I'd
be glad to see her again. They tell me she's got money."
The boy looked at him in surprise.
"She owns Elmhurst, and has mortgages on a dozen farms around here,
and property in New York, and thousands of dollars in the bank," he
said. "Aunt Jane's rich."
"Aunt Jane?" echoed the man, quickly. "What's your name, lad?"
"Kenneth Forbes."
A shake of the head.
"Don't recollect any Forbeses in the family."
"She isn't really my aunt," said the boy, "and she doesn't treat me
as an aunt, either; but she's my guardian, and I've always called her
Aunt, rather than say Miss Merrick."
"She's never married, has she?"
"No. She was engaged to my Uncle Tom, who owned Elmhurst. He was
killed in a railway accident, and then it was found he'd left her all
he had."
"I see."
"So, when my parents died, Aunt Jane took me for Uncle Tom's sake, and
keeps me out of charity.
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