Mr. Van Kuren then gazed intently not only at the slight patch of grey, but also at the boy’s honest, intelligent face and continued: “If you had a picture of your father—”
“Why there’s one here, sir,” exclaimed Bruce, as he led the way to a large photograph of a group of firemen, in which his father was one.
“There is no sort of a doubt about it,” said Mr. Van Kuren as his eye fell upon the portrait of Frank Decker, “and I am very glad to congratulate you, my boy, on your good fortune.”
“I wish you would tell me what all this means,” exclaimed Bruce excitedly, “for to-morrow I’m going to start for England, and if I have any good fortune I would like to enjoy it at once.”
“I can tell you in a very few words my boy,” replied Mr. Van Kuren. “Your father’s name was Dexter, not Decker. And he was the son of an old gentleman who lives not far from me in the upper part of the city and whom you have met I believe. Through the cunning and deceit of one of the most treacherous scoundrels whom I have ever known your father became estranged from your grandfather, and I suppose took the name of Decker because he did not wish to have his old friends know what he was doing. He and I were boys together and although it is more than twenty years since I last saw him, I can readily recognize him in that picture. It was through the merest accident that your grandfather came to suspect your identity and the fact that you can dimly remember the house and grounds uptown, convinces me that you must have been taken there in your early childhood. Very likely your father went up there from time to time in order to re-visit unobserved the scenes of his boyhood. Well, you must come at once for your grandfather is waiting to see you.”
To say that Bruce was surprised at what he heard is but a mild way of expressing the sensations that filled his breast as he listened to the words of his father’s old friend. It would be nearer the truth to say that he was stunned by the recital. He said nothing however, but put on his coat in a dazed manner and was about to accompany Mr. Van Kuren uptown without even stopping to obtain permission of his superior, when he stopped suddenly and said, “But I am going away to-morrow to England to get a fortune that was left to my father and which through his death has come to me. Perhaps you can tell me what relatives I have over there.”
“Relatives in England!” cried Mr. Van Kuren, “I know your family, root and branch, my boy, and you have absolutely no connections in England, that is to say not on your father’s side. Who told you about this fortune and advised you to go and get it?”
“I was told about it by a man whose real name I think is Dexter, and who keeps a sort of a loan office in Eldridge Street.”
“I think I understand it all now,” said Mr. Van Kuren significantly, “that man was the same one who made the trouble between your father and all his friends, and I have no doubt he will be very glad to get you out of the way in order that he may inherit all of your grandfather’s property. Did he kindly offer to pay your fare to England?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the boy, “and he told me it might be necessary for me to stay there a month or two, during which time he would pay all my expenses.”