CHAPTER XXVIII
ONE morning, three days later, as Paul was writing in his room his employer came in holding a sheet of paper in his hand. His face was bloated, his eyes bloodshot; he had lost flesh and quivered in every limb and muscle.
“I want to ask a favor,” he said, in a tone which was almost that of pleading humility.
“What is it? I'm at your service,” the young man said, politely indicating the vacant chair beside the table.
Hoag caught the back of the chair as if to steady himself, but declined to sit down. He made a dismal failure of a smile of unconcern. “You needn't think I'm gittin' ready to die by this move o' mine,” he began, “but I think any sensible man ought to be prepared for any possible accident to him. I've made my will, an' I want you to witness it. It won't be contested, and your name will be sufficient.”
“Oh, I see.” Paul was mystified, but he took the document from the nerveless hand and spread it open on the table.
“You needn't bother to read it through.” Hoag's voice trailed away toward indistinctness, and he coughed and cleared his throat. “I've made an even divide of all my effects betwixt Jack an' Henry an' Eth', an'—an' I've specified that the business—in case o' my death—is to run on under your care till Jack is of age—that is, if you are willin': you to draw whatever pay you feel is reasonable or is fixed by the law.”
“Of course that is agreeable,” Paul answered, “though I shall count on your aid and advice for a good many years, I am sure.”
Hoag blinked. He swung on the chair a moment, then he added:
“There is one more thing, an' I hope you won't object to that, neither. It's about Jack. The child is at the age when he kin either grow up under good or—or what you might call bad influence, an' somehow I want—I've studied over it a lot lately—an' I want to take the thing in time. You don't believe exactly like other folks, but you are on the safe side—the safest, I might say. Jack thinks the sun rises an' sets in you”—Hoag's voice shook slightly—“I reckon it's because you treat the little fellow so friendly an' nice, an' it struck me that in case of any—you know—any possible accident to me that I'd like for you to be his guardian.”