“Begorra, then you are the heir of the five or six millions!” shouted O’Hara, as excited as though all the money were coming to him. “Faix, I’m glad to be in the same watch with you! I shall make it the business of my loife to cultivate your frindship.”
“I don’t think it will pay for you to do so, for I never saw my uncle a dozen times in my life; and I am confident he has given his money to some other person,” answered Tom, laughing at the enthusiasm of his companion. “He never did a thing for me, and, what is worse, he never did a thing for my mother when she needed help; and so it isn’t likely that he has left any of his money for me.”
“Whose name is it signed to the despatch?”
“Rodwood; Judge Rodwood. He always was a great crony and adviser of my uncle; and now I suppose he is the executor or administrator.”
“Why should he telegraph to you if your uncle didn’t lave you the money?” demanded O’Hara warmly.
“I don’t know: I may get the letters he sent before we sail for home.”
“But he says you are to go to London quick; and I shall not have you in my watch, after all.”
“Yes, you will; for I shall not go to London,” added Tom decidedly.
“Howly Mother! not go, when there is five or six millions of money waiting for you to put your hand to it?” gasped O’Hara.
“I don’t know that there is even a single dollar waiting for me; and if I knew there were a million I wouldn’t go,” answered Tom, laughing at his friend’s zeal.