44“I shouldn’t be a bit surprised,” rejoined Ross. “There can’t be so many Aaron Rushtons in this part of the country. This man lived, at that time in Medford, not far from Boston.”
“That’s just where Uncle Aaron used to live!” broke in Fred. “He has some property there yet, although lately he spends a good deal of the time with us in Oldtown.”
“Would you know his handwriting, if you saw it?” asked Ross, feeling in his pocket.
“Sure we would!” answered Fred. “We’ve seen it a hundred times.”
“Take a look at that then,” said Ross, taking a wrinkled sheet of paper from a collection wrapped in oiled silk and held together by a rubber band, “and see if it’s your uncle’s writing.”
Fred unfolded the paper with hands that trembled with excitement, while Teddy looked over his shoulder.
It was a brief note, dated fifteen years before, acknowledging the receipt of three hundred and sixty dollars, being the semi-annual interest on notes given by Mr. Montgomery. It had been written from Medford, and it bore the stiff precise signature of Aaron Rushton.
“That’s Uncle Aaron’s writing!” exclaimed Fred. “I can’t be mistaken.”
“It sure is,” echoed Teddy. “I’d know it among a thousand.”
45“Well, what do you think of that?” chimed in Bill, as he and Lester crowded around to look.