“He is not my nephew, but was only cared for by my brother,” said Allan Roscoe. “You may tell me freely, my good fellow, all the truth. You say that Hector stole the money which your uncle lost.”
“Yes; but he has made my uncle believe that I took it. It is hard upon me,” said Jim, pathetically, “as I was dependent upon my uncle. I have been driven forth into the cold world by my benefactor because your nephew prejudiced his mind against me.”
“I believe him, papa,” said Guy, who was only too glad to believe anything against Hector. “I have thought all along that Hector was guilty.”
“Is that your son?” asked the crafty Jim. “I wish he had come to the institute, instead of Hector. He is a boy that I couldn’t help liking.”
There are few who are altogether inaccessible to flattery. At any rate, Guy was not one of this small number.
“I feel sure you are not guilty,” said Guy, regarding Jim graciously. “It was a very mean thing in Hector to get you into trouble.”
“It was, indeed,” said Jim. “I am cast out of my uncle’s house, and now I have no home, and hardly any money.”
“Hector is in the city. Have you seen him?” asked Allan Roscoe.
“Yes; I met him a few minutes since.”
“Did you speak to him?”