"That's what I say. That man can see through it, if anybody can. Barlow says it is no concern of his; but I'll bet if he is brought up before a court of law he'll have to tell something he don't want to."
Bob became all life and animation now. The idea that Barlow might tell something that was no concern of his made him impatient to see a lawyer and find out what he thought about it. The Mr. Gibbons of whom Bob had spoken was an old-time friend of his father's, and he was sure that if there was a flaw in the will that gentleman would find it out.
Meanwhile the carriage sped on, and in a few moments drew up in front of Ben's house. It was a small place, surrounded by about half an acre of ground, and so hemmed in by bushes and trees that one could scarcely see it from the road. The garden occupied almost all Ben's attention. It was only when he grew lonesome and longed for his old captain that he went down to Barlow's, to be where he could see the vessels come in, and he never spent any money there except what he was able to "pay right down." His story that Ben was indebted to him was made up all out of his own head.
"So this is where you live?" said Bob, after the trunks had been carried in on the porch and the hackman discharged. "It seems to me that you ought to be contented here."
"I am," replied Ben. "I call this my 'ordinary,' for I have never been satisfied to live here only until my cap'n comes back. I believe now that he is alive, and that some day I'll see his old gray head coming in here. My gracious! wouldn't that be fine?"
"I tell you it would," said Bob, seating himself in the nearest chair, "but I am most afraid of it. Any way, we'll make Barlow tell what he knows. Now, what have you got for dinner? I have not had a bite to eat since I have been at my uncle's."
"Well, you go in and start a fire in the stove and I'll soon have dinner ready for you. You will find everything arranged there as it used to be in the Anchorage."
Bob went into the house, and Ben bent his steps for the garden to gather some fresh vegetables for dinner. The Anchorage was the name Watson had applied to the house Captain Nellis had given him because he thought he wasn't going to move any more. He thought he was going to live and die under that roof. When Mr. Layton told the old fellow that he was done with his services, Ben was almost heart-broken. He tried to argue the point with that gentleman, but when the latter told him that he had hired negroes to take the places of all the house-servants, Ben had nothing more to say.
"Niggers!" he said in disgust. "I can remember the time, and it was not so very long ago, when the niggers were slaves and glad to take what they could get, and now they come around and crowd a white man out of his place. This house won't stand a great while."
Bob started a fire in the stove, and that was easy enough, for everything was handy, and then went into the bedroom to examine things there. His bunk was nicely made up on the side opposite Ben's, as if the old fellow had been expecting him that very night. All the war relics were there, too, which Bob had not been able to find room for in his apartments at home, including a model of the rebel iron-clad Atlanta, just as she appeared on the day that Ben helped sink her.