CHAPTER X That night John Glenning sat alone in his office with a letter spread out on the table before him. Something had come to pass which he could not understand; which had plunged him in a maze of incredulity in spite of visual evidence. The letter had come that afternoon--had been forwarded to him from Jericho--and he had taken it from the post-office upon his return from his second visit to Dink Scribbens. The letter was dated and post-marked New York City, and read as follows: "JOHN GLENNING, ESQ., "Jericho, Ky. "Dear Sir--The death of our client, and your uncle, John Glenning, on the 14th inst., reveals the fact that one of his life insurance polices was executed with you as beneficiary. Proofs of his death having been properly forwarded to the company by us, we are this day in receipt of a draft for $2000, payable to your order. Find said draft enclosed. Please acknowledge receipt. "Yours truly, "BENNER & LOCKE, Attorneys." This letter, with the draft beside it, lay upon his table in the light of a lamp none too clean. Letter and draft had been lying there for about an hour and a half, and a coatless, tumbled-haired, hunted-eyed man had been sitting in front of them for the same length of time, alternately fingering the thin piece of paper which represented two thousand dollars, and staring at the larger sheet, with its short, business-like message. Many men would have rejoiced wildly at this piece of good luck, and it may be told in a whisper here that few could have needed it worse than the one to whom it had come. But it had a quieting and peculiar effect upon the new doctor. Parents he had none. An older married sister lived in Missouri. He had fought pretty hard since he was sixteen, hugging honour and truth to his heart as priceless possessions in the great struggle before him. He did not come of wealthy folks, nor even well-to-do. They were poor, but were people of quality. Misfortune came, such as may come to the best, and so the death of each parent was hastened. Yes, he had an uncle John. He was named for this relative. He had seen him only once or twice in his life. He had heard his father speak of him as a crotchety, peculiar person, who all his life long did the most unexpected things. He lived in New York, but had never married, and never amassed money. This freak he exhibited in privately taking out life insurance in favour of his namesake was characteristic. Possibly that accounted for it--the name. John didn't know. He had never seen this uncle since he had been grown. Once he was tempted to write to him and ask him to give help in getting him (John) through college, but he had refrained from writing this letter. He had, instead, written one telling of his struggles, and how he knew he would get through. To this he received no reply of any kind. So John had put this strange relative out of his mind, and had scarcely given him a thought in years.