“I said I’d tell you my story and I will,” said Bert Field, after an awkward pause. “I am an American like yourselves, but I was born in Japan, while my folks were on a trip around the world. My folks are dead now and about the only relative I have in the world is Jabez Trask.” “Jabez Trask your relative!” cried Pepper. “Yes, and he isn’t much of a one, sort of a third cousin, that’s all. I had another relative, a Robertson, but he is dead too.” “The one that owned the old mill?” asked Jack. “Yes. That mill was in the Robertson family for years, and they got rich from it, so I am told. Well, to cut a long story short, when my folks died they were in New York City and I was placed in the care of Jabez Trask, who sent me to a boarding school in Connecticut, the Haley Oaks School.” “I’ve heard of that place!” said Dale. “Very strict institution.” “It is a miserable place!” cried Bert Field. “The pupils are half starved and sometimes beaten. I had more than one row with the master, and about six months ago I ran away.” “But you said you didn’t know where Jabez Trask was?” said Pepper, questioningly. “True, for he had moved to the country—to the mansion he now occupies and which belonged to the Robertson estate. I tried to locate him, but I didn’t do it openly—for reasons I’ll tell you later. Well, at last I found him—and then I found the old mill.” “But I don’t understand at all what you are driving at,” came from Andy. “Why all this secrecy?” “I’ll tell you,” answered Bert Field earnestly. “Jabez Trask has a fortune in his keeping. He pretends that it belongs to him, but I think it belongs to me.” CHAPTER XXVI A STORY OF INTEREST The cadets listened with much interest to what Bert Field had to say. Here indeed was a mystery—yet more of a mystery was to follow. “I won’t go into all the details of the case,” went on the strange youth, “for it would take too long. As I said, Jabez Trask sent me to boarding school. He also went into court and had himself appointed my guardian. My folks left a little money and this he handled to suit himself.” “I believe he is equal to it—he looked like a miser,” was Pepper’s comment. “In a roundabout way I heard about the Robertson mill and the Robertson fortune. My mother and the Robertsons were related and I heard that when William Robertson died he had expected to leave his property to my mother’s side of the family and not to the Trask side. I wrote to Jabez Trask about this and he came to see me. He was furious and said the fortune belonged to him. He admitted that William Robertson’s will was missing. Nobody knew what had become of the paper.” “This sounds like a story book,” said Dale, as Bert Field paused.