"You look tired, Uncle Francis. Just as though you had been dancing all night."
"I leave that to you younger men," returned the major, drawing his easy-chair to the fire. "As to being tired, Frank, I am so; though I have not danced."
"Tired of what, uncle?"
"Of everything, I think. Sit down, lad."
"I want to speak to you, Uncle Francis, concerning myself and my plans," said Frank, taking a seat near the fire. "It is time I settled down to something."
"Is it?" was the answer. The major's thoughts were elsewhere.
"Why, yes; don't you think it is, sir? The question is, what is it to be? With regard to the bonds for that missing money, uncle? They have not turned up, I conclude?"
"They have not turned up, my boy, or the money either. If they had, you'd have been the first to hear of it. I have been searching for them this very morning."
"What is your true opinion about the money, Uncle Francis?" resumed Frank, after a pause. "Will it ever be found?"
"Yes, Frank, I think it will. I feel assured that the money is lying somewhere—and that it will come to the surface sooner or later. I should be sorry to think otherwise; for, goodness knows, I need it badly enough."