"And did he leave Melindy well fixed?" asked the stranger, vaguely.
"Yes."
Gerald did not feel like going into particulars. He felt too bitterly the injustice of his father's will to speak of its provisions before a stranger.
"Well, I'm glad on't. Melindy's first husband was a no-account sort of a man, and it's my belief he didn't leave her a hundred dollars. He was shif'less; and, besides, he drank."
So that was the man upon whom Abel must look as a father. Gerald felt glad to think that his father was a man of whom he had no reason to be ashamed.
"Have you seen your sister since—since her last marriage?" he asked, with some curiosity.
"No; I've never had an invitation to call upon her. I guess she was too much set up by her marriage to a rich man to notice a workin'-man. You see, I ain't one of your 'ristocrats—I'm only a blacksmith, and have to work hard for a living."
"You are none the worse for that, Mr.——" here Gerald hesitated, for he had not yet learned the name of his new acquaintance.
"Crane—Alonzo Crane—that's my name, young man. I'm glad you don't put on no airs, even if your father was a rich man. Do you know anything of my sister's son, Abel?"
"Yes, sir; he is in Portville, living with his mother."