“I am,” Frank admitted, as he surrendered the spokes to his brother. The latter steered to where their row boat was moored at the anchorage, and having made everything aboard the dory snug for the coming night of storm, and having anchored her, bow and stern, Frank and Ned rowed to shore and started up the walk toward their uncle’s house.
The two boys were orphans, their mother having died when they were respectively nine and eight years old. Mr. Arden was an importer of coffee and other tropical and South American products, and had, at one time, been wealthy.
But the death of his wife seemed to deprive Mr. Arden of some of his business ability. Perhaps he lost heart, and had little ambition left. Whatever the cause, he gradually lost money and curtailed his activities until he was in danger of bankruptcy. Of course Frank and Ned were then too small to know about this.
Then Mr. Arden’s brother Philip, a shrewd business man, stepped in to the aid of the sorrowing man. Philip Arden knew little or nothing of the importing trade, but he had good natural abilities, and he gave his whole attention to his brother’s affairs.
The effect was to save a business on the verge of ruin, and for some years the two Arden brothers were in partnership. For a time the father of Ned and Frank seemed to regain his old-time manner. But he really was a man with a broken heart, and five years after the death of his beloved wife he gave up the fight and died, after a brief illness.
Frank and Ned were thus left orphans, but, thanks to the business ability of Philip Arden, the boys were heirs to a considerable fortune. It was natural that they should now make their home with their uncle. The latter had never married, and for the last few years he had taken up his residence with his brother and nephews at Ipswhich, where the Ardens had lived for many years in an old homestead on the bay.
Of course Frank and Ned grieved sorely over the death of their father. They did not remember their mother quite so well, though often they would go into the parlor and look at the picture of a woman with a sweet, but rather sad face. It was a picture before which they had often seen their father stand with bowed head and hands clasped behind his back. And often, when he came softly out of the room where the portrait hung, there was a suspicious moisture in Mr. Arden’s eyes.
But Frank and Ned were healthy, hearty lads; and at fourteen and thirteen grief does not last very long. Kind Nature did not intend it so. And in a little while Ned and Frank at least partly forgot their sorrow in the activities of life.
Their uncle carried on their father’s business, though on a smaller scale, and their money, inherited from their father, was in Philip Arden’s hands, as the guardian of the two boys. Frank and Ned never asked how their fortune was invested. They took it for granted that it was safe. They always had, within reason, all the spending money they needed, and they were well supplied with the things that go to make life enjoyable.
Their tastes were simple, however, and the most that they asked for was something connected with boats. They seemed to live on the water, especially in the summer.