It gave the boys a queer thrill to think of all that had been pressed into the years between the time that note was written and the present. It seemed like a link between the living and the dead. The man who had received it was in his grave, and the one who had sent it had long since given up all hope of hearing of the matter again. And now chance had brought together the son of one and the nephews of the other on this stormy night on the seacoast, and they sat tracing out the faded lines by the flickering light of the brush fire.
Fred sat back and drew a long breath.
“Do you remember what Dave Parloe said–that it was a small world after all?” he asked Bill. “I know now that he was right.”
“To think that it was you who saved my life this afternoon, and that it was your uncle who helped my father when he was in business trouble!” exclaimed Ross. “I feel that I owe you more than ever now. You see, Mr. Aaron Rushton lent part of the twelve thousand dollars to father when he started into business in Canada.”
“Just think of Uncle Aaron’s doing a thing like that!” exclaimed Teddy.
“You don’t owe me anything,” affirmed Fred, “and as for what you owe Uncle Aaron, he’s stopped worrying over that long ago.”
46“But won’t he be surprised when we write and tell him all about this?” demanded Teddy.
“If we could only pitch in and help Ross find the gold, we’d square ourselves with Uncle Aaron for the rest of our lives,” remarked Fred.
“Why, has he anything against you now?” asked Ross, in surprise.
Teddy’s eyes twinkled as he looked at Fred.