"As if I would work for an old tramp like the hermit!" exclaimed Tom, disdainfully. "I suppose he pays you about a dollar a week."
"That's better than doing nothing, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's better for you. I don't want your place. I shall go to the city when my school days are over."
"I wish you good luck, Tom, whenever you do," said Mark, good-naturedly. "I must hurry along with my letter."
"A letter for you, Mr. Taylor," announced Mark, as he entered the cabin.
"From John Hardy," said the hermit, as he scanned the address.
He opened the letter and read as follows:
"My Dear Old Friend: Your will is drafted and ready for signature. You had better come up to the city, and sign it. I know your reluctance to leave your forest home, but it will occur to you at once that your signature must be witnessed, and though witnesses might be found in Pocasset, it would involve a degree of publicity which I presume you would wish to avoid. Here I can easily get it witnessed by my clerks.
"I suggest that you bring the boy, Mark, with you, as he may be of service to you. Moreover, I think it is high time that we spoke to him of the mission on which you propose to send him.
"Your worthy nephew, Lyman, called upon me to-day with your letter. He wished me to furnish him with the money needed for his ticket, but I thought it better to send a clerk to purchase the ticket, and see him fairly off. He has just returned, and reports that Lyman is on the way to Chicago. I think you showed considerable shrewdness in securing his removal from this neighborhood. He may return, to be sure, but the chances are that he will spend all the money, and find himself stranded in Chicago. If this compels him to work for a living, no harm will result.