In his uncertainty he decided upon what was not, perhaps, the most judicious course, to ask Major Grafton directly in regard to the matter. An opportunity soon came. "Major Grafton," Ben began, "how long since did Philip die?" The major regarded him suspiciously. The question put him on his guard. "A few months ago," he answered indifferently. "Were you--his guardian?" "You seem curious this morning, Philip," answered the major, coldly. If Ben had been older and more experienced he would have been able to get at the truth indirectly, but it was his nature to be straightforward. "I heard something yesterday that disturbed me," he said. Major Grafton threw himself back in an easy-chair and fixed his eyes searchingly on the boy. "Tell me what you heard," he said, shortly, "and from whom." "I was sitting on a bench near the lake when two ladies began speaking about you--and me." "Tell me what they said," broke in Grafton, impatiently. "The truth must be told," thought Ben, "even if Major Grafton gets offended." "They said that Philip had a large fortune, and you were his guardian. When he died the money was to go to some cousins in New York. They said that you had concealed his death, and so continued to draw the income of the property, and were palming off me for him. They seemed to think I was your nephew, and was in the plot." Major Grafton was a good deal disturbed by what Ben had told him. Of course there was a strong chance that the truth would come out some time, but he had hoped to keep it concealed for some years, perhaps. "These ladies seem to have a large share of imagination," he said, with a forced laugh. "From one fabrication you may judge all. You know whether you are my nephew or not, and whether you are engaged in any plot?" "No, sir, of course not." "The whole thing is ridiculous; I don't think you need trouble yourself any more about it." But Ben was not satisfied, and Major Grafton could see this from his look. "That was my reason for asking whether Philip had any property," he continued, with an inquiring look. "I must satisfy him in some way," thought the major, "or he will compromise me." "I wouldn't like to think I was keeping any property away from the rightful owners," proceeded Ben. "You can put yourself at ease," said the major, carelessly. "Those ladies, whoever they are, know almost nothing about the matter. Philip did have a little property, yielding scarcely enough for his own expenses. At his death it fell to me. His grandfather was an intimate friend of mine, and made the arrangement in gratitude for my care of the boy." "Then there were no cousins in New York?" asked Ben, doubtfully. "Not that I am aware of. That is a lie out of whole cloth. There is no one more unscrupulous than a female gossip. Did you speak to either of the ladies?" "No, sir." "That was right. You might have made mischief and seriously offended me. Do you often write home?" "Every week, sir."