"Why—there wasn’t nobody forgotten," Tobias assured him. "No, sir, not a soul! There ain’t no rel’tive of Cap’n Jethro’ that can honestly say he or she was forgotten in the will." Nor was he more communicative when he chanced to meet Ralph Endicott getting out of his roadster in front of the Clinkerport Inn. "Wal, young feller!" exclaimed the lightkeeper, "what brings you over here from Amperly? Ain’t got your lady friend with ye, eh?" "If you mean Lorna, I have _not_. She has gone to New York on a visit, I understand. But Uncle Henry made me come over here and arrange for one of Tadman’s bungalows. He won’t hear to our going anywhere else for the summer." "Which don’t please you none, I can see," commented Tobias. "Which one of them bungalows are you going to have?" "I had to take the one right next to the Nicholet house," said the disgruntled young man. "That was the only one left—it is so late in the renting season. I was hoping to get Uncle Henry to agree to a change for one summer, at least. But nothing doing!" "I see," observed Tobias, grinning privately. "Uncle Henry is all wrapped up in a new invention. He wants to be where it is quiet. The goodness knows it’s quiet enough at Clay Head." "I cal’late. Come over to the light, Ralphie, and have a mess of Heppy’s fishballs." "Well, I might drive you home just as well as not," the young fellow agreed, smiling. "You’re a re’l bright boy, Ralphie, even if you can’t appreciate Lorny Nicholet." "Now, stop that, Tobias Bassett!" exclaimed his young friend, exasperated, "or I’ll surely overturn you in the ditch," and he threw in his clutch with a vicious jerk as the engine began to purr. CHAPTER VII A NEWCOMER Tobias postponed the telling of the wonderful news to Miss Heppy until after supper and after Ralph Endicott had wheeled away from the Twin Rocks Light in his car. She had crowded down the question until then; but it finally came out with a pop. "Who did Uncle Jethro leave his money to, Tobias?" she demanded, as he turned away from closing the door. "To me an’ you, Heppy—pretty near every last cent of it." "Now, stop your funnin’!" "Ain’t funning. It is the truth," her brother said. "Six thousand dollars, nearabout. And if you’d seen Icivilly Potts’s face!" he chuckled. "For love’s sake!" gasped Miss Heppy. "It can’t be!" "It _can_ be, for it _is_." "Why, Tobias, we’re rich!" "I cal’late." "I—I never would have believed it!" exclaimed his sister, and sinking into her chair she threw her apron over her head and began to sob aloud. "Oh, sugar! what you cryin’ for?" Tobias demanded. "’Cause Icivilly and them others didn’t get Uncle Jethro’s money? Have some sense, do! This ain’t no time for weeping. Just think of what you can do with three thousand dollars." "You just said six thousand!" ejaculated Miss Heppy, hastily reappearing above the hem of her apron. "Where’s half of it gone?"