"Yes; he left a queer will, and I'm not very thankful to him for making me trustee. However--he was an old friend. There's a trust provision here, Mr. Manley, for your benefit--or for the benefit of the Platte County Home for the Feeble-minded, as the event may prove. Your uncle's estate, Mr. Manley, should amount to ninety-five or one hundred thousand dollars after debts, funeral expenses, inheritance taxes, etc., have been paid. Are you working?" "Not just now." "What salary were you getting last?" "Seventeen dollars per week." "Listen to this clause, Mr. Manley: "I have given much thought to the question of my responsibility toward my sister's son, Paul Manley, of the City and State of New York, who is my nearest relative and my only heir-at-law. It has seemed to me that this, my nephew, was an idle and worthless youth; nevertheless I feel that I should fail in my duty toward him, and toward the memory of my beloved sister, if I should make no provision for him in this my last will and testament. "I do therefore ordain as a first charge upon the trust fund, that my said nephew shall receive monthly during the term of his natural life a sum equal to the monthly wage, salary or income which he is earning at any honest employment. So that my said nephew may make fullest avail of this bequest, I direct that the earned income above referred to shall be the earned income of which he is in receipt eighteen months after he has been given personal notice of the terms of this provision. After my said nephew's decease, the principal of the trust fund with accumulations shall be paid over to the _Platte County Home for the Feeble-minded_, on the single condition that the name of that institution be changed to _The Henry Clay Manley Memorial_. "So far," continued Mr. Beaks, looking over his spectacles at Paul, "we have plain sailing. You have now been put on notice. Eighteen months from today payments to you will begin, on the basis of the salary you are then earning." "How much could I get?" breathed Paul. [Illustration] "Between five and six thousand per year; between four and five hundred dollars per month." Paul's eyes dilated. "But how am I to live until then?" "You might begin to earn it." "Work!" exclaimed Paul indignantly. "With all that money coming to me?" "Your uncle," said Beaks, removing his glasses to polish them leisurely, "seems to have understood your bent of mind. You may work little or much as you please. But you will receive a stipend equal only to the income you are earning from honest work eighteen months hence! I see that term is ungrateful to you, here is one which you may like better: