“Don’t you call your uncle a near friend, especially if you have no others?”
“I should say that would depend upon circumstances. I never lived with my uncle, and I never saw a great deal of him. He was a very rich man: I have heard it said that he was worth five or six millions.”
“Murder! what an uncle!” exclaimed O’Hara. “Five or six millions! that’s a power of money. How many children had he?”
“None at all; not a chick nor a child,” replied Tom, amused at the manner of his companion, who always indulged in the brogue when he was excited.
“Howly St. Patrick! five or six millions of money, and not a child in the world? What has he done with it all?”
“I don’t know,” replied Tom coolly.
“How many brothers and sisters had he?” asked O’Hara, opening his mouth with the interest he felt in the case.
“None at all.”
“How can he be your uncle, then? That’s what bothers me.”
“My father was his only brother, and they had no sisters. My father died when I was ten years old; and my mother died two years ago, just before I joined the academy ship.”