"That is clear enough. My uncle told me nearly a year ago that my father left nothing for me."
"It seems that your father died in England," added Bob.
"Yes; in London. This will names my mother as my guardian, and my uncle Amos as the trustee, to take care of the property, which, it seems, was all in stocks and bonds. But my uncle says my mother is in an insane asylum; but whether in England or the United States, I don't know," I continued, folding up the will.
"I don't see how your uncle did it. It is the most infernal, mean business I ever heard of," said Bob, indignantly. "But what are you going to do?"
"I am going to find my mother!"
"How will you find her? Where will you look for her?"
"I don't know," I answered, feeling for the first time that my information was very insufficient.
"Were there no other papers in the safe?"
"Plenty of them; but I was so agitated I could not examine them."
"But what are you going to do, Ernest?"