"What will you do with this money, Phil?" asked Mr. Jackson.
"I don't know; keep it, I suppose."
"It is a pity to let it lie idle here. If you invest it, you will have double this amount when you are of age."
"I can only invest it in a mud bank up here," I replied. "But we have nearly a hundred cords of wood at the landing, which ought to bring about four hundred dollars more, as it sells this year. A great many steamers come up here now, and I think we shall sell it all this season."
"Then you will have twelve or thirteen hundred dollars. If Mr. Gracewood goes to St. Louis this fall, I advise you to let him invest it for you."
"I will, sir. Is there anything else in the chest?"
"Here are papers relating to Matt Rockwood. There are names upon them, and if you desire, you can obtain some information in regard to your foster-father."
I did not care to look at the papers; and returning the money and other articles to the chest, I locked it, and put the key in my pocket. Mr. Jackson went to his tent, and Kit and I slept together in the Castle. The picture of my mother, as I insisted upon believing it was, seemed to be before me; and I gazed upon it in imagination till sleep shut it out from my view.
CHAPTER XXV.