“I will not open the box; or, only under the conditions named.”
The figure disappeared and—well, the lad started up in bed. He had only dreamed. Then he closed his eyes and dropped off into sleep. He had about resolved to open the box, and thus had come to him a dream. He made sure that he had been dreaming and then said:
“I renew my promise. I will not open the box. I will keep the promise I made when awake and the promise I made in my dream.”
The lad awoke at his usual hour and after dressing entered the room where the old magician usually slept on a mattress placed on the floor. The old man was not there and the lad muttered:
“How strange! Uncle Andro does not go out before breakfast as a rule.”
The boy stood gazing around the room when his glance fell upon a note lying on the table. He seized the note and read:
“You will not see me again until fate has done its best or worst. Make no inquiry for me. I have left one dollar for you. All else in the rooms is yours, as I told you. Good-by until we meet again at the command of fate.
“Uncle Andro.”
“He has deserted me,” said Ike in a low, sad tone. “Yes, he has deserted me. I did not think he would go away and not say good-by. He intended to steal away when he was talking to me last night. I cannot help it, and I will not complain. I am but a boy, but I have had a large experience. I can work tricks better than my master. I will get along well enough; but I would like to know what he meant all these years when he continually alluded to fate as connected with me. Hang fate! I am going to strike in for myself.”
The lad placed the note on the table and as he did so he espied a neatly folded bill. He unfolded it and found it was a “fiver,” as the boys say.