“Seven hundred and fifty dollars, Cliff!” the man exclaimed, in surprise; “that is surely a handsome gift, but it is far too little for the service you have rendered—that could never be estimated in dollars and cents. Why, the corporation ought to give you a thousand more for saving their property from being wrecked.”
“I am more than satisfied,” said Clifford, with a smile.
“But I am afraid you are a trifle presumptuous to contemplate entering college on so small an amount,” said his friend gravely. “The expenses will be heavy, you know. I feel sure you will pass the exams. all right, but I am thinking of the draft upon your strength later on if you try to work your own way.”
“I am going to try it, all the same,” said Clifford, his face brightening at the assurance of his teacher that he would “pass.”
“This money will surely suffice for one year with economy, and that will give me quite a start, while I am sure I do not need to tell you that I shall make the most of my time.”
“Indeed, you do not—you have always done that, ever since I have known you, but I wish you had some friends who could give you a lift along the way now and then. Have you no aunts or uncles? Do you remember your father, Cliff, or know anything about his family?” the professor thoughtfully inquired.
“No, sir,” said the boy with a sigh, “my mother would never talk about my father. Whenever I questioned her she would always put me off by saying, ‘Wait until you are older, my son, and then I shall have something to tell you.’”
“And did she leave no papers to explain what she meant?”
“No; at least, none that I could ever find.”
“Well, there will be some way provided for you, I am sure,” said the professor. “I will gladly take charge of your little fortune until you need it. I will see that it is safely invested for you to-morrow. Does the squire know about it?”