It was clear that the son had inherited to the full his father’s independence of spirit, and the boys’ liking for him deepened.
“Most of the debts are for small amounts,” Ross continued, again taking the little red memorandum book from his pocket, “that is, comparatively small. 43 There’s one big one that is more than all the rest put together. The others are for a few hundred dollars each, though one or two of them run into the thousands.”
He turned over the pages.
“Father was very methodical and precise,” he went on, showing the pages. “You see, he has all the names arranged in alphabetical order. There’s Allen, three hundred and twenty-seven dollars; Carey, one hundred and ninety-two; Linson, eighty-five; Masters, six hundred and eighteen. And here we come to the big one, Rushton, twelve thousand four hundred and––”
“What was that?” broke in Teddy excitedly. “Why that’s my name and Fred’s.”
“Is that so?” asked Ross in surprise, for so far he had heard the boys speak to each other only by their first names, and there had been no formal introduction. “It isn’t such a common name, either. Perhaps it’s your father. What’s his first name?”
“Mansfield,” came simultaneously from both of the boys.
“Oh, then he isn’t the one,” said Ross, consulting his book. “This is–let me see,” as his finger sought the place, “Aaron–Aaron Rushton.”
“We have an Uncle Aaron, my father’s brother,” stated Fred.
“Can it possibly be Uncle Aaron?” asked Teddy, his pulses quickened by the possibility.