“It’s very strange,” remarked Mrs. Pell “He is always on time.  He can barely catch his train now.  I wish you, Roy, would run up to his room and see what is the matter.  He may be ill.”

Roy soon ascended the two flights of stairs to the apartment with the dormer window that had always been Syd’s.  The door was open and the room was empty.  The bed had been slept in, but the suit Syd had worn the day before was not about.  He had evidently dressed and gone.

“I wonder if he can be up at Mr. Tyler’s?” thought Roy.

He returned to the dining room with his report.

“It is very odd,” remarked Mrs. Pell.  “It is not like Sydney to go off in that way, but he will explain when he comes home to-night.  He may have been obliged to go to town at seven on business for Mr. Tyler.”

“That’s so; what did the old gentleman want with Syd,” asked Jessie, turning to Roy.  “You were so sleepy when you came home last night that you didn’t half satisfy our curiosity.”

“He wanted him to make his will,” answered Roy.

“And did he?” went on Jess.

“Yes.  I say, mother, hadn’t I better go and stir up Rex?  I’m afraid he’s gone off to sleep again.”

“There, he’s coming now.  I hear his step on the stairs, so you just sit still and answer my questions.  I’m not half through yet,” and Jess checked off on her fingers the two queries to which she had already had responses.  “Now then, is he as rich as we all thought him?”

“Richer.  Good afternoon to you, Rex.  Better late than never.  I’m going to keep you company, by taking a second cup of coffee.  Mother, may I, please?”

“Royal Pell, what is the matter with you?” exclaimed Jess.  “You haven’t been like the same fellow since you climbed up to that trestle yesterday afternoon.  You seem to be trying to keep something back.  Don’t you notice it, mother?”

“I have,” put in Rex, before Mrs. Pell could speak.  “I couldn’t get a word out of him before he went to sleep last night.  One would think he’d had a trouble like mine to bear,” and Rex sighed with the air of a martyr.

Roy glanced over at him quickly.  What would this luxury loving brother of his say if he only knew!  But Roy did not dare tell yet.  Mr. Tyler might live for years, and have ample opportunity to change his mind about his will.  Yes, it was better to keep the matter to himself as long as he could.

“What’s queer about me?” he said now.

“Why, you’re giving such short answers to our questions about the old miser,” returned Jess promptly.  “As a rule you’d tell us all we wanted to know without our having to draw it out as if we were pulling teeth.”

“Well, what is it you want to know?”

“Oh, all about your experience over at Mr. Tyler’s.  The people up in the town will hear about your being there and will expect us to know all the details.  It is quite an event for a queer old character like the Burdock miser to make a will.”