"Yes," replied Quincy, "and it's safe in the bank in Boston."
"Thank God!" exclaimed Uncle Jim. "Now I don't care how soon I am called to judgment for my sins."
"Uncle Jim," said Quincy, "I saw my father yesterday afternoon. Would you like to have your brother come see you?"
Uncle Jim shook his head. "It will do no good," said he. "You have done all I could wish for. Pay the town for my board. Give them what they ask. Do with the balance what you wish, Quincy. It is yours."
"Where do you wish to be buried, Uncle?" asked Quincy bravely.
"Right here," replied Uncle Jim. "One of the boys here died about a month ago; his name was Tom Buck. He was a good fellow and did many kind things for me. Bury me side of him."
"One more question, Uncle," said Quincy. "In what town did your wife and children reside when they died?"
"In Amesbury," said Uncle Jim. An idea seemed to strike him. "Well, Quincy, do you suppose you could find where they are buried?"
"Of course I can," Quincy answered.