Uncle Terry leaned forward with elbows on his knees, resting his face in the palms of his hands, and ejaculated: "I knew it! I knew it! I'm a blamed old fool an' ought ter hev a keeper put over me!" Then turning to Albert he added, "I've paid that dum thief over four hundred dollars this year an' hain't got a scrap o' paper ter show fer't, and nothin's been done so fer as I kin see 'bout the business." He meditated a few moments, and then turning around suddenly added, "My wife an' Telly don't know nothin' 'bout this, and I don't want they should. Thar's a sucker born every minit and two ter ketch him, an' I b'lieve it! I've been ketched an' skinned fer dead sure! I want ter sleep on't, an' mebbe in the mornin' I'll tell ye the hull story, an' how I've been made a fool of. I'm beginnin' ter think I kin trust ye." "I thank you for your good opinion," answered Albert, "and if I can help you any way I will." When the two returned to the house Albert was shown to a room that reminded him of his boyhood home, the old-fashioned bed, spotless counterpane, and muslin curtains all seemed so sweet and wholesome. A faint odor of lavender carried him back to the time when his mother's bed linen exhaled the same sweet fragrance. He lighted a cigar and sat down by a window where crisp salt sea air came in, and tried to fathom what manner of business Uncle Terry could have with Frye. It was an enigma, and as he looked out on the wide expanse of moonlit ocean where every wave sparkled with silvery light, and listened to the ceaseless rhythm of the long swells breaking upon the rocks almost under his window, he could not solve it. That the odd-spoken old man was in sore distress was evident, and for an hour Albert watched the sparkling sea in vain imaginings as to what Uncle Terry's business with Frye could be. And into his meditation also crept the face and form of the girl he had first seen watching the sunset. CHAPTER XXI A NEW CLIENT When Albert arose the next morning the sun was just appearing round and red out of the ocean, and a crisp breeze blowing into the open windows. He heard the stir of some one below, and, dressing quickly, descended to the sitting-room. No one was there, and he stood for a moment looking at the curiously framed paintings that almost covered the wall. One in particular caught his eye. It was a ship careened on the ocean with waves breaking upon her. She was resting on rocks that barely showed beneath, and in her rigging, heavily covered with ice, were five men. All around was the sea, tossed into giant waves, curling and breaking about the stranded vessel. He noted the life-like shading of the green and white billows; the ice that covered every shroud and rope and spar; and peering out of a cabin door was a woman holding a babe in her arms. In a way it was a ghastly picture, and one that held his attention from all the rest.