“George H. Osborn.”
“Oh,” Ralph exclaimed, “just listen to this, Creel,” and he read him the letter. “Now let’s open the box.” He did so, and in it found a handsome gold watch with a light gold chain attached to it. Ralph was wild with delight. He had always wanted a watch and he was enthusiastically happy to have such a beautiful one. “And just think, Creel,” he said, “I can’t even thank my uncle; I don’t know where a letter would reach him.”
“Indeed,” remarked Creelton, much interested; “how’s that, Os?”
“Well, you see none of us know anything about him; he left home twenty years ago, and only occasionally writes us a letter. Sometimes he has written us from New York and sometimes from London and other places, but we don’t know what business he is in and he seldom tells us where to address him. Now look at this letter. Uncle George doesn’t even know that my father is dead.”
Ralph put his uncle’s letter in his table drawer and again both youths delightedly examined and handled the watch. In the back it was inscribed:
“To Ralph Osborn, from his uncle, George H. Osborn.”
The watch interfered with his studies for the rest of that morning. Before going to drill, as he changed into working clothes, he carefully placed his beloved treasure on a shelf in the wardrobe under some towels. “I hope the thief won’t find it,” he remarked to Creelton. “I’m almost afraid to let it be known that I have it.”
Creelton left and Ralph followed a few minutes later.
Just after drill, while Ralph was shifting from his working clothes to his service uniform, Bollup and Himski came into his room.
“Hello!” cried Ralph. “Say, fellows, I’ve something to show you; my Uncle George has sent me a watch. Here it is.”