“Then you must have a good reason for thinking that way?” urged Dick, hardly pleased at hearing his chum speak in this strain.
“I’m going on general principles to begin with,” continued Leslie, unabashed, “for while I’m not from Missouri I have to be shown before I believe. Besides, according to my humble opinion, the story he tells is decidedly fishy.”
“Oh! do you think so?” asked Dick, chuckling, for it usually amused him to find his friend acting in this way. In times past he had even dubbed Leslie the Great Objector. “All of us seem to believe what he says, and mother surely ought to recognize her own long-lost brother.”
“It would seem so,” admitted Leslie, slowly. “But to tell you the truth, I don’t altogether like his ways. He strikes me as a chap who is playing some sort of clever game.”
“That’s a pretty serious accusation to make, old fellow,” argued Dick. “Now, if the Horners were well-to-do, there might be some reason for a scamp to scheme to hoodwink us. But great governor! what could any one expect to get here?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Leslie, who, however, was very tenacious in his ways, and could not be easily induced to desert his guns. “But something tells me he is up to some dark scheme.”
“Oh!” laughed Dick, “perhaps now he’s learned in a mysterious way that the Horners have fallen heir to some great big fortune, though they don’t know it yet themselves. And as you say, he may be intending to hang around so as to steal valuable papers that will enable him to claim the same. That must be what you’ve got in mind, Leslie—a regular movies stunt.”
“Now you’re making fun of me, Dick,” complained the other. “But I sat there and pretended to play with Susie, while I kept one eye on your so-called Uncle Silas. And Dick, I could see him chuckling to himself every little while as if something tickled him immensely.”
“Well, what of that?” urged Dick, stoutly. “He’s had hard luck all his life, and I can understand how pleased he must be to come on folks who belong to him. A rover they say, when he gets real old and sickly, always thinks of the past. Now, for my part, I seem to take to Uncle Silas quite well. We may find a way to keep him with us right along.”
“Listen,” said Leslie, as he was about to hurry off, “I saw him take up one of the tea spoons and look at it. Then he nodded his head as if he had found it real silver you know, one of those few heirlooms your poor mother thinks so much of.”