Andy Bird looked delighted, as what boy would not. Immediately his eyes traveled in the direction of his cousin, and there was exchanged between them a significant series of nods and winks, that possibly meant their thoughts were along the same lines; and that now they would have the time to go with certain work that had been taking their attention of late. “By the way,” said Frank, “I stopped at your house on the way out, Andy, to tell your father that you would go fishing with us, and not to expect you till night. And he gave me a letter for you that he said had come in the early morning mail. From the postmark I see it’s from your uncle Jethro, away down on that Arizona ranch you were telling me about. Here it is, and a fine fat one too.”
Andy hastily opened the letter, and was heard to give vent to a low cry that seemed to spell both astonishment and delight.
“What’s this mean?” exclaimed Frank, stooping to pick up a paper that had fallen to the ground, “why, as sure as you live, it’s a check made out to you, Andy, and signed by the old bachelor uncle, your mother’s brother. Hold your breath, fellows, while I whisper what the amount is he takes pleasure in sending to his beloved nephew—four figures in it, as sure as you live—a clean thousand dollars!”
Larry gave a groan and threw up his hands while his eyes rolled.
“Of all the lucky fellows, you Bird boys do certain sure take the cake!” he cried.
CHAPTER II—GLORIOUS NEWS
“Ain’t you going to read it out, Andy?” asked Elephant, anxiously.
“Wait till he gets through, can’t you?” asked Larry, although he was fairly trembling with eagerness to hear what the sending of that glorious check could mean; when he looked at the small bit of paper Frank was holding he almost held his breath with awe, for to tell the truth Larry had never seen a check a quarter as large as that in all his life.
Andy could not say a word when he finished reading. He seemed to be fairly overpowered with emotion, and holding the letter out to Frank, motioned that he should accommodate the other two.
And so Frank started in. The letter was written in a cramped hand, as if uncle Jethro Witherspoon had rather lost the knack of using a pen; but then Frank could wade through it, even if he did hesitate here and there.