“Well, I suppose it was a little rough when the old man’s scarcely cold perhaps. I say, aren’t you going on? We can find out just when he died, you know.”
Mechanically Roy followed his brother, his eyes still fixed on that black wagon. He could not realize it yet. Mr. Tyler dead so soon after making that will which left Mrs. Pell all his money. No more poverty for them. The stable need no longer be empty and—
Roy checked these thoughts with a half suppressed exclamation of disgust. It seemed sacrilegious to be speculating in this fashion on the gain from the death of the old man who had been so fond of life, for all he had made such poor use of it.
They were now close enough to the cottage to see that the doctor’s carriage stood there just behind the ominous vehicle belonging to Mr. Green. The doctor himself was coming out of the house.
Seeing the boys he halted till they came up with him.
“Oh, doctor, when did it happen?” asked Roy.
“Last night about ten,” was the answer. “Didn’t Sydney tell you?”
“No, I haven’t seen Syd since I left him here yesterday. Is he here now?”
“No. He is very busy in town seeing about the arrangements there. You know he is one of the executors. Things take queer turns in this world of ours, don’t they? You little thought at this time yesterday morning that before twenty-four hours had passed you would be the means of bringing a great fortune into the family. But good-by. I must hurry off to do what I can for the living now.”
“There is nothing that I can do for him, is there?” Roy stepped apart from his brother and closer to the doctor to ask the question.