TOM COMES INTO A FORTUNE.
There was deep silence for more than a minute.
All eyes were turned upon him who had made so extraordinary a statement.
Then Tom asked in a subdued tone:
“Was my father dead?”
“No, but he was insensible from concussion of the brain.”
“How long did he live, Mr. Percival?”
“HE IS LIVING NOW!” answered the banker.
Tom stared at the speaker in incredulous amazement. Dr. Lycurgus B.
Spooner and Mr. Brush seemed equally amazed. All looked to their guest
for an explanation.
“You wonder,” continued the banker, without waiting to be questioned,
“you wonder, no doubt, why, if this is the case, that your father did
not return to his home and family. I can tell you in four sad words.
Though your father did not lose his life, he did lose his reason. The
blow which he received upon his head affected his brain, and he has
never recovered the use of his mental faculties since.”
“Where is he?” asked Tom, soberly, for this was heavy news.
“He is boarding in a private family in San Francisco. Let me explain,
that, though he is not sane, he is not violent, and does not therefore
require to be confined in an asylum. He is quiet and sane in many
respects. He boards in a small family where there are children, and so
far as one in his condition may, he appears to enjoy life. He is in
good physical condition, works about the garden, goes on errands for
the family, and is able to be useful in many ways.”
“But what supports him?” asked Tom, anxiously. “His board amounts to
something. How is it paid?”
“I pay it,” answered Mr. Percival.
Tom rose impulsively and seized his hand.
“Thank you, sir, for your generous kindness to my poor father,” he said.
“My boy, I would be glad to accept your thanks, if I deserved them,
but you must remember that for eight years I have had possession of a
considerable sum of money belonging to your father.”
“But you did not know it was his.”
“True, I did not know it, but I guessed it. I may as well explain
that though I was only one of a party who discovered and rescued your
father, I alone found the gold dust. Being found so near your father,
I at once came to the conclusion that it was his, and resolved to
devote so much of the income of it as might be needed to his support
and welfare. I found a poor but worthy family, to whom the sum paid for
his maintenance would be an important help, and I placed him in their
charge. He is with them now.”
“Is there no hope of his recovering his mind?” asked Tom, anxiously.
“The doctor says that anything which will recall his old life may
restore his lost faculties. I think your presence, and what you could
tell him of your mother, and his old home, may have a very important
influence upon him.”
“Then I must go to him as soon as I can,” said Tom.
“Your eagerness is natural. A week hence I shall myself return. If you
will wait till then I shall be able to introduce you to his presence.
He knows me, and considers me his friend.”
“Dr. Spooner,” said Tom, “I shall be sorry to leave you and Mr. Brush,
but I feel that I ought to go to my father as soon as possible.”
“Of course, of course, Tom,” said Peter; “but we sha’n’t be separated.
We will all go together.”
“So say I,” said Dr. Lycurgus Spooner.
“Good!” said Tom, joyfully.
“Then,” said the banker, “I shall be able to complete my business with
you all. I have bought your gold dust, you remember, and must settle
for it. I can do so better in San Francisco than here. Besides, I shall
have a large account to settle with my young friend here.”
“With me?” asked Tom.
“Yes, the gold dust which I found I shall return to you with interest.”
“But you have spent the interest on my father.”
“Only a small part. Let me tell you, my boy, that that gold was the
foundation of my fortune. It amounted to a little over twelve thousand
dollars. I invested in building-lots in the city, and sold out at
an immense profit. I am now worth half a million, and that was the
nucleus of my fortune.”
“Half a million!” exclaimed Peter Brush, regarding his guest with awe.
“Yes. Now, let me tell you what I propose to do. To my young friend,
Tom, I will turn over twenty-five thousand dollars, if he will give me
a receipt in full for the money belonging to his father, which I have
been using for eight years.”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars! Mr. Percival, that is too much.”
“It is not enough, but if you are satisfied, I will accept the rest as
a voluntary concession of your rights.”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars will make us all rich,” said Tom, his
eyes glowing with joy. “Mother can live like a lady.”
“As I am sure she is.”
“In that case,” said Tom, “I won’t claim any of the gold which we have
found here. Doctor, I give you and Mr. Brush my share.”
At first his two friends opposed this, but Tom was firm, and, knowing
that he was now rich, they ceased their opposition.
A week later, the three friends, in company with Mr. Percival, set out
for San Francisco, which they reached without any adventure which we
feel called upon to record.