“I hadn’t any idea he would die so soon,” he said. “It seems like an awful shock, although I do remember that Dr. Martin said he was in a pretty bad way. And he asked me to come and see him to-day; I mean Mr. Tyler did. I wonder when he died.” “What luck for his heirs,” remarked Rex. “Don’t!” cried Roy, starting forward as if to place his hand over his brother’s mouth. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” “Well, I suppose it was a little rough when the old man’s scarcely cold perhaps. I say, aren’t you going on? We can find out just when he died, you know.” Mechanically Roy followed his brother, his eyes still fixed on that black wagon. He could not realize it yet. Mr. Tyler dead so soon after making that will which left Mrs. Pell all his money. No more poverty for them. The stable need no longer be empty and— Roy checked these thoughts with a half suppressed exclamation of disgust. It seemed sacrilegious to be speculating in this fashion on the gain from the death of the old man who had been so fond of life, for all he had made such poor use of it. They were now close enough to the cottage to see that the doctor’s carriage stood there just behind the ominous vehicle belonging to Mr. Green. The doctor himself was coming out of the house. Seeing the boys he halted till they came up with him. “Oh, doctor, when did it happen?” asked Roy. “Last night about ten,” was the answer. “Didn’t Sydney tell you?” “No, I haven’t seen Syd since I left him here yesterday. Is he here now?” “No. He is very busy in town seeing about the arrangements there. You know he is one of the executors. Things take queer turns in this world of ours, don’t they? You little thought at this time yesterday morning that before twenty-four hours had passed you would be the means of bringing a great fortune into the family. But good-by. I must hurry off to do what I can for the living now.” “There is nothing that I can do for him, is there?” Roy stepped apart from his brother and closer to the doctor to ask the question. “No, my boy,” was the answer. “Nothing now. You have obeyed his last request of you. It is not your fault that you are too late.” The physician drove off, leaving the two boys standing in the road in front of the silent cottage, for the undertaker was carrying on his work noiselessly. “Roy,” said Rex suddenly, placing a hand on each of his brother’s shoulders, and looking him squarely in the face, “what did Dr. Martin mean by what he said just now about your being the means of bringing a fortune into the family?” “Don’t—don’t ask anything about it just here. Come, let’s hurry off toward home. I’ll tell you on the way.” Roy slipped his arm through his brother’s and led him off down the hill. “Now then,” said Rex impatiently when they had reached the Marley turnpike again, “you must tell me. Did Mr. Tyler leave you any money for what you did for him yesterday?” “No,” replied Roy, in a kind of burst, “but he left his whole fortune to mother.”