"I don't care what you father intended!" he snarled.
"But I do, and what is more, I intend, sooner or later, to try to have matters mended. My father always told me he wished me to keep on going to school and then to enter Princeton."
"Never mind, I am your guardian now, and I know what is best for you."
"How much money did my father leave me?" I asked, with considerable curiosity.
"None of your business."
"Oh, but it is my business."
"It is not your business, and I want you to shut up!" he cried, in a rage. "He left little enough."
"Little enough," I cried. "My father was rich."
"He was at one time; but he lost the most of his fortune in stocks just before he died. You have hardly enough to keep you until you are twenty-one."
I must confess that my uncle's remarks were quite a shock to me. I had always supposed that I would some day be wealthy. I gave the matter a moment's thought, and then came to the conclusion that Mr. Stillwell was not telling the truth.
"How much money did my father leave?" I repeated. "I am entitled to know."
