“I did not expect this treatment when I came up here this evening,” he began.  “I came up merely to see you, and to find out how you were getting along.  I thought perhaps I had been neglecting you boys of late.”

Clyde looked at his brother in astonishment, and Ray returned his glance with something like a smile playing around his lips.  Such talk from Uncle Ellis was unheard of.

The younger brother did not pretend to account for it, but Clyde quickly got an idea.  Lycurgus Sharp, the lawyer, had advised Mr. Ellis to treat the boys kindly, in order to get their forgiveness, should the guardian prove to be short in his accounts.  Could it be possible that the harsh uncle had determined to adopt this plan?

“I had very good intentions when I started,” continued Mr. Ellis, trying very hard to make his voice sound pleasant, “but when I saw you counting that money I became excited.  As I told you, sums of money have been stolen from me of late, and I cannot account for their loss.  This was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, and to get you to help me find the thief.  When I saw you with that money, I naturally supposed that you had been helping yourselves occasionally.”

“You thought we couldn’t have come by it honestly, because you never gave us anything,” suggested Clyde, who could not refrain from giving his uncle this sly dig.

Mr. Ellis smiled a dismal smile.

“But I find I am mistaken,” he went on, not attempting to reply to the bit of sarcasm.  “I am glad to know that you made that money honestly, for I shall take your word for it.”

This was so much more than either of the boys had expected that they began to look upon their uncle as an enigma hard to solve.

“There is one thing that I would like to speak of,” added Mr. Ellis; and Clyde thought that his face suddenly became whiter, and that his fingers twitched even more nervously than before.  “May I sit down?”

“Why, certainly,” replied the boy, amazed at this mark of politeness.  “Excuse me for not offering you a chair.  Take this rocker.”

And he dragged up his favorite chair and offered it to his guardian with a bow.

Mr. Ellis accepted it.

“You made some reference when I was in here—­in here before,” continued the latter, “to a certain ten thousand dollars.  Will you tell me what you meant?”

It was Clyde’s turn now to become nervous.  He would have liked to have escaped that, but he was in for it now.

“I—­I didn’t mean to say what I did,” he pleaded.

“Yes, but you did say it, and I would like to have it explained.”

And Mr. Ellis clutched the arm of his chair with his right hand, and hung on to it, while he tried to push the chair into a gentle rock with one of his feet.

Clyde looked his uncle straight in the eye.  The latter avoided the glance, and turned his attention to the floor.