“Yes,” interrupted Ralph, eagerly, “but sometimes the congressman orders a competitive examination. Now Jack Farrer finally graduates from the Naval Academy next June; you know it is a six years’ course, four at the Academy and then two years at sea aboard a cruising ship, and his graduation will make a vacancy at Annapolis for the Toledo district. Now, father, won’t you get some friend of yours who knows Congressman Evans to write to him and ask the appointment for me? And if Mr. Evans won’t do that, ask that the appointment be thrown open to competitive examination? Please do, father.”
Ralph’s brown eyes more than his words imploringly begged his father. The latter was silent for a few moments, then said: “Ralph, I’ll ask my employer, Mr. Spencer, to write to Mr. Evans to-morrow, but don’t be too hopeful. There will undoubtedly be many others who have greater claims upon Mr. Evans.”
“Oh, thank you, father,” cried the now delighted Ralph. “If Mr. Evans won’t give me the appointment but opens it to a competitive examination I’m sure I’ll have a good chance of winning it.”
“Well, I’ll see Mr. Spencer to-morrow. By the way, Ralph, to-day I received a letter and a present from your Uncle George.”
“From my Uncle George!” exclaimed the young man, in great surprise. “Why, I’d forgotten I had an Uncle George; I’ve never seen him, and you haven’t spoken of him for years. What did he say in his letter, and where is he? Tell me something about him.”
“Here is his letter. I hadn’t heard from or of him for ten years. His letter is absolutely brief. He says he is well and is doing well. He enclosed a check for two hundred dollars as a remembrance. He says that for the next week only his address will be the general delivery of the New York City post-office.”
“Two hundred dollars!” repeated Ralph, enthusiastically. “Why, father, if I am admitted to the Naval Academy that is just the amount I will have to deposit for my outfit. But why have you never told me anything about my Uncle George?”
“It’s a sad story,” replied Mr. Osborn, “and there isn’t much to tell. He was one of the most attractive young men in the city of Toledo, twenty years ago. Your grandfather was strict with him, and at times harsh, too harsh, I now think. However, one day about twenty years ago, your grandfather sent your Uncle George with two thousand dollars to deposit in a bank. Well, George turned up two hours later and said he had been robbed. Your grandfather became very angry and said that George had been drinking and gambling. Your uncle indignantly denied this, and your grandfather in a passion struck him. It was an awful time. George left the house, said he would never return. I’ll never forget his white face. He asked me if I believed he had gambled that money away. I assured him I did not. He said: ‘I thank God for your belief in me, Ralph.’ Those were the last words he ever spoke to me.
“We never knew where he went or what became of him. At long intervals letters would come from him, each one enclosing a draft. In each letter he stated the amount he sent was to be applied to what he termed his financial indebtedness to his father, but he always maintained the money had been stolen from him. In about ten years the entire amount, with interest, was repaid to your grandfather. Until this letter came to-day I had not heard from him for ten years.”
“But, father, were not his letters enclosing the drafts acknowledged; did you not write to him?”