Andy looked up in the old man’s face, and he saw there an expression of a kind and amiable disposition.
He could understand how such a man should have allowed himself to be imposed upon by a selfish and unscrupulous man like Brackett.
“I am glad to see you, Uncle Simon!” he said. “I hope I may be able to be of service to you.”
“You seem like a strong, active boy,” said the old man, surveying, with approval, the sturdy frame and manly, handsome features of his great-nephew.
“Yes,” returned Andy, smiling, “I am tolerably strong.”
“Andrew Gordon; they generally call me Andy.”
“I should like to call you by that name, but it will be more prudent to go by some other.”
“You may call me Henry Miller, Uncle Simon.”
“Henry Miller? I will try to remember it. But you mustn’t call me Uncle Simon; that would ruin all, if Mr. Brackett should hear it.”