"I'd like to ask him a few things," muttered Hiram thoughtfully. Then: "So you have no idea when your brother ran away?"
"It must have been some time before the lawyer found me last year. He said he had been hunting for both of us, and he wanted to make sure of me, so that I would not run away and make trouble. For the property my Grandmother Cheltenham left us cannot be divided till both heirs are found. That is just the way he put it."
"Humph! A nice way to fix it, I must say. Your grandmother must have been a pretty cranky old tea-party."
"I don't know, Hiram. Maybe she did what she thought was best. But I do hope that I take after my mother's side of the family."
"Which can't be any worse than the Cheltenhams in any case, eh?" chuckled Hiram. "Nice name—'Cheltenham.' Sounds as though you ought to be related to the King of England, or some of the nobility."
"Now, you're laughing at me, Hiram! I'd just as lief my name was something short and nice sounding—like 'Strong,' or 'Post,' or—"
"Maybe Orrin's name isn't so short and sweet." Hiram said suddenly. "You know, as I wrote you, there is a mystery as to what Orrin's name really is."
"Yes, I know," said Sister thoughtfully. "And Orrin is such a nice young man. I asked him the other day, Hi, what he supposed might have become of my little brother after he ran away from the reform school."
"What did he say?"
"Why, he seemed real interested. He said maybe Claude—I mean, Marvin—was wise to run away. Orrin said sometimes they hire boys out from those schools to farmers who make them work like slaves. He seemed to know all about such things."