THE INTERVIEWERS.
When they reached home at evening they found that five reporters had been shown into the library and were waiting for them.
"Glad to see you, gentlemen," said Witherspoon, smiling in his way of pleasant dismissal, "but really that statement contains all that it is necessary for the public to know. We don't want to make a sensation of it, you understand."
"Of course not," one of the newspaper men replied.
"And," said the merchant, with another smile, "I don't know what else can be said."
But the smile had missed its aim. The attention of the visitors was settled upon Henry. There was no chance for separate interviews, and questions were asked by first one and then another.
"You had no idea that your parents were alive?"
"Not until after my uncle's death."
"Had he ever told you why you were in his charge?"
"Yes; he said that at the death of my parents I had been given to him."