"My father had been working hard on a patent for years, Mr. Baldwin," said Rob. "He had angina pectoris, and the doctor warned him of the danger if he did not rest, but he could not rest, because we are poor, and he wanted to make us comfortable. He worked harder than ever, in fact, and now the machine is done. But the very day after a man came from here to see it, and told him it was a success, my dear father----" Rob stopped short, and Mr. Baldwin patted her hand without speaking for a few moments. "He had a sweet and beautiful nature, dear, and lived a life that was ideal, in many ways, and that end is mercifully quick. He must have been most happy to know that he had succeeded in providing for you," Mr. Baldwin said at last. "The last words he said to Mardy and me were full of that thought, Mr. Baldwin. We left him to sleep, and when we came back he had gone," said Rob, trying to smile in the kind face smiling at her, though there were tears in the eyes of Sylvester Grey's old chum. "This was eleven days ago. I don't want to bother you, Mr. Baldwin, but it was to ask advice that I came. The invention Patergrey made was a bricquette machine. Nobody else understood it--not even Mardy--but I did, because I helped him on it for a long time--read his papers and worked the model, and handed him things, and all that, you know. Patergrey called me his 'son Rob'; we were especially much to each other. What I want is to ask you how much that invention is really worth? This Mr. Marston, the man who, as I told you, came to see it, asked Patergrey to let his firm have the option--don't you call it?--on the invention, and after he was gone Patergrey gave me your name and address, and said he intended writing you to ask you what its value was--I was to remind him to do it. But the next day he died, so suddenly, and we were left to dispose of the machine. We had a letter from Mr. Marston three days ago, offering us four thousand dollars for the invention, and telling us we must take it at once if we wanted it, or it would be withdrawn. All the rest want to accept it, but I begged hard to be allowed to come to see you, and for Mardy to write this man, telling him we must have a little time to think about it. For you see, Mr. Baldwin, Patergrey said he would not accept less than fifty thousand dollars, and I can't forget that. Besides, I think there must be something wrong about a man who offers so little, and wants us to take it that minute." "What do you know about business, child?" asked Mr. Baldwin. "I wish witnesses on the stand stated matters so clearly."