The Rover Boys on Snowshoe Island; or, The Old Lumberman's Treasure Box

by Edward Stratemeyer

"Why doesn't he want to hear from your father? But, excuse me, Ruth—maybe that is a private matter."

"I don't know that it is so very private, Jack. And, anyway, I'd like you to know the truth,—otherwise you might get a wrong impression—if you heard the story from outsiders. In a nutshell, the matter is this: Some years ago my father and his Uncle Barney were connected with a certain manufacturing company in which both held a considerable interest. The company went to pieces, and my father and Uncle Barney both lost their money. But my father had other interests which were distantly connected with this company, and in some manner poor old Uncle Barney, who was not much of a business man even though he was a lumberman, got it into his head that my father had, in some manner, gotten the best of him, because my father had money and he had not. Then, in the midst of this trouble, Uncle Barney's wife died. My father was away in the West at the time with my mother, and could not get back in time for the funeral. This made Uncle Barney more bitter than ever, and he refused to listen to any explanations my folks might make. He had made some sort of deal to get possession of Snowshoe Island in Lake Monona, and he retired to the island and became almost a hermit."

"Yes, he told us he lived on the island, and he invited us to come over there, and he would show us some good hunting. I suppose it must be quite a place."

"My father has tried several times to patch up matters with old Uncle Barney, but he will not listen to any explanations. He is rather queer at times, and I suppose he has it strongly fixed in his mind that my father is in some manner responsible for his poverty, and that we think ourselves too high-toned to have anything to do with him, when, as a matter of fact, my folks would be very much pleased to have the old man become friends and live with them."

"Why doesn't your father send him a letter if he won't listen to his talk?"

"He has tried that. And mother has written old Uncle Barney some letters, too, during the last six or eight years. But he is very peculiar, and the letters come back unopened."

"And you really feel that you would like to be on good terms with him?"

"Yes, Jack. My folks would give a good deal to smooth the whole matter over. But, instead of becoming reconciled to the situation, old Uncle Barney apparently is becoming more bitter as time goes by."

"If you and your folks feel that way about it, I'd like very much to meet the old man again and have a talk with him. Of course, he told me that he never wanted to hear your father's name mentioned; but if I got a good chance I might be able to get him to open up and tell me his side of the story. And after he had done that, he might be more willing to listen to what I had to say."

"Oh, Jack! if you ever do get the chance, try to talk to him, by all means, and do what you can to impress it on his mind that my father had nothing to do with the loss of his money, and that my folks would have gone to Mrs. Stevenson's funeral had they been able to do so. And tell him, too, that my father and my mother, and also myself, would be very glad to become friends once more, and that our house will be open to him at any time."