"Caleb is a far better and broader man than I," Philip's uncle had written, "but he lacks force and push. I'm satisfied he can't help it. He is stronger than he looks, and younger too, but he was fool enough to take part in the Civil War, where he got a bullet that is still roaming about in him, besides a thorough malarial soaking that medicine can't cure. This often makes him dull; sometimes for weeks together. But he knows human nature through and through, and if I had a son to bring up, I'd rather give the job to Caleb than trust myself with it. He has done me a lot of good in some ways, and I feel indebted to him and want him to be well cared for as long as he lives. His salary is small, and he won't ask to have it increased; but sometimes he'll insist that you help him with some projects of his own, and I advise you to do it, for he will make your life miserable until you do, and the cost won't be great. I used to fight him and lose my temper over some of his hobbies, but now I wish I hadn't; 'twould have been cheaper." "That," said Philip, after reading the passage to Grace, "is about as tantalizing as if written for the purpose of teasing me, for there's not a shadow of hint as to the nature of Caleb's projects and hobbies. He may be experimenting in perpetual motion or at extracting sunshine from cucumbers. Still, as the man is honest and his freaks are not expensive, I don't see that I can suffer greatly. By the way, when I informed our firm that they would have to endure the withdrawal of my valuable services, and told them the reason, they were not a bit surprised; they said my uncle had written them several times, asking about my progress and character, and they had been unable to say anything to my discredit. They had been curious enough to make inquiries, from the commercial agencies, about the writer of the letters, and they took pleasure in informing me that Uncle Jethro's store, houses, farms, were estimated by good judges, at--guess how much." Grace wondered vaguely a moment or two before she replied:-- "Aunt Eunice's cousin was the principal merchant in a town of two or three thousand people, and his estate, at his death, was--inventoried, I think was the word--at twelve thousand dollars. Is it as much as that?" "Multiply it by six, my dear, and you'll be within the mark, which is seventy-five thousand dollars." "Oh, Phil!"