“Oh, my stars!” ejaculated Leslie, shrilly. “It’s a real Government bond, don’t you see, Dick, with your mother’s full name on it, and for—why, I must be dreaming—ten thousand dollars!”
Dick uttered a loud cry that seemed to come from the depths of his overcharged heart. As if the shout had been a signal to draw them, the little mother came hurrying in from the kitchen, while grandpop made his appearance, cane in hand, his room being close at hand.
“What’s the matter, Dick?” questioned Mrs. Horner, looking deeply interested.
“Leslie fetched you a present, did he?” demanded the veteran as his eyes fell upon the glistening hockey skates lying neglected now on the table.
Dick could not say a word, but he thrust the wonderful paper into the hands of his mother. Her eyes drank in the printed form on the outside, with her name plainly inscribed as the owner of the bond.
“What does it mean, Son?” she asked, weakly. “I don’t seem able to understand.”
“Why, it’s a Christmas present for you, Mrs. Horner, from Uncle Silas,” explained Leslie, only too desirous of making immediate amends for all his base suspicions of the past. “He’s waited his time, and sprung the greatest surprise I ever heard of on you all. Bully for Uncle Silas, I say; he’s all right!”
“What’s this you’re saying about me?” asked a voice, and the wanderer appeared in view, his weather-beaten face wreathed in a broad smile of happiness and contentment. “They say listeners never hear any good of themselves. Tell me to my face if you dare.”
Polly looked at him almost helplessly. Then she raised the precious Government bond, with the magic figures printed upon it.
“What—where—how—oh! Silas, how could you deceive us so, and let us believe you poor and homeless, when you were a rich man all the while?”