He paused. Touchtone sat facing him statue-like. He was beyond words. Would Jennison ever finish?
"Your father was dead, but I was to use it as I thought best as soon as I liked. I meant to do as he asked; but, upon my word, I have waited to get on the track of your mother or you. The bank officials had an idea you were both dead. I didn't care much to press the matter, but I should have done what I promised, and used this before"—and he took from the table a paper lying there—"if the very day that brought me to you on that train hadn't brought Saxton's little boy with you. Seeing him started me on a scheme to get square with Saxton, on account of an old grudge I'd got against him, and to make something, perhaps, at the same time—professionally."
He gave his malicious, slow smile with the last word.
Touchtone mechanically took the paper Sixmith had signed, and, half in a stupor, ran over it. The donor eyed him keenly. Then, as its significance came home to Philip's heart, he realized that a seemingly vain dream was fulfilled; that what was meant to be a great
