“I want you to promise me one thing, though. That you will not speak of my fainting spell at home, or you either, Scott. I have a particular reason for asking that favor.” Both boys promised to respect his wishes, and then Sydney quickly changed the subject to the Bowmans’ trip, asking at what hotels they were going to stop, and so on until the carriage reached the station. He seemed so much better by this time that when he met a friend on the train and took a seat with him, Rex and Scott almost forgot that he had been ill. They found places together near by, but neither said much during the short ride. Rex felt that Scott must be thinking of how Sydney had broken in upon his revelation of their inheritance, and wondering what it could mean. He couldn’t explain it, so he thought best not to broach the subject. And as this filled so large a part of his thoughts there was nothing else he cared to talk about. After all his trip to Philadelphia had not been productive of any results. He knew no more now than when he started about the extent of Mr. Tyler’s fortune. When they reached Marley, Sydney took a hack that always waited at the station, and he and Rex rode down to the Pellery, Scott living close to the station in the other direction. “Do you feel all right, Syd?” asked Rex during the ride. Sydney nodded without making any reply, and soon they reached home. Rex was unusually silent during dinner. He looked up in surprised fashion when he learned that Sydney had gone off without his breakfast that morning. Sydney explained that it was due to urgent business in town. Rex wondered what the family would think if they knew about the scene at the office that afternoon. Nobody said anything about Mr. Tyler after Sydney had admitted that he died before he left him the previous night. Rex was the one most likely to discourse on the subject, but now he had his reasons for not broaching it. The next morning Sydney did not go to the city. He devoted himself to making arrangements for Mr. Tyler’s burial. The death was published in all the Philadelphia papers, and the Pells expected that some one might come down, claiming to be a relative. But no one appeared, and on Saturday the funeral was held in the little house in Burdock. All the Pells were present, and a great number of people from Marley. The news that the miser was very wealthy and had left all his money, except a small legacy to his servant, to Mrs. Pell, spread rapidly and created a great sensation. Everybody connected it with Roy’s act of rescue on the trestle, and so many spoke to him about it that he was almost afraid to show himself in public. “What do you care?” said Jess, when he complained to her about it. “It certainly isn’t a thing you are ashamed of.” “But I don’t know what to say,” he returned. “It sounds silly to tell them it wasn’t anything, and I can’t say, yes, I think it was a very brave act. So there I am.” “You poor boy. What do you do, usually?”