He was feeling particularly gloomy this morning. Having exhausted himself in regretting the good time he would lose in not being able to go with the Bowmans, he had taken to lamenting his condition here in Marley during vacation with Scott away. He was not so fond of reading as was Roy, and without plenty of congenial society, he was apt to find that time hung heavy on his hands. Scott had gone to Philadelphia this morning to make some purchases for his journey. He would not be back till afternoon. Rex had not yet planned what to do with himself in the meantime. “Where are you going?” he called out presently, when he saw Roy walking down toward the gate. “Over to Mr. Tyler’s to see how he is. Want to come?” “I believe I do,” answered Rex slowly. “Hold on a minute till I get my cap.” Roy was rather surprised that his brother should wish to go. He wondered just how Mr. Tyler would like his bringing him. Then he remembered what the miser had said about Rex reminding him somewhat of Maurice Darley and thought perhaps he might be glad to see him on this account. It was cooler than it had been the previous day. The country about Marley and Burdock was beautiful, extremely rolling and rich in vegetation, so the walk was a pleasant one. “Say, did Mr. Tyler really have Syd make his will last night?” asked Rex as they were crossing the covered bridge over the creek. “Yes,” answered Roy. “Did he have much to leave?” went on Rex, stooping down as they emerged on the road again, to pluck a tall blade of grass which he began to munch between his white teeth. “About half a million.” Roy thought he might as well tell this. He knew that if he tried to evade the question his brother would be apt to think he was keeping something back. “What?” Rex stopped stock still in the road to utter the exclamation. “That old bag of bones worth half a million dollars! Nonsense.” “I think it’s more likely he should be worth that amount,” returned Roy, “than the Bowmans, for instance, who seem to spend their income right up to the handle. You know everybody has always thought Mr. Tyler had money.” “I know they have, but such a sum as that!” Rex walked on again, knitting his brows in thought. There was silence between the boys while they ascended the hill on the opposite side of the creek. Then as they reached the top, Rex was about to ask another question when Roy clutched his arm suddenly. “Look there,” he cried. “Isn’t that undertaker Green’s wagon in front of the house? Mr. Tyler must be dead!” CHAPTER V BREAKING THE NEWS “Great Cæsar, Roy! What’s come over you?” Rex was staring in amazement at his brother, who had turned quite white at the sight of the undertaker’s wagon standing in front of the miser’s home. He had halted and gone off to one side of the road to lean against a tree, where he stood now, mopping his face with his handkerchief.