While we were discussing matters there was a knock on the door, and Mr. Mason came in.
"What, Foster, back already! I knew you were coming, but did not expect you so soon."
"Did you receive Mr. Ranson's letter?" I asked.
"Yes; and came to have a talk with Mr. Stillwell. Where is he?"
In a few words I told him what had happened. The lawyer was much surprised.
"This will change things a great deal, especially if your uncle does not recover," he said. "I think we ought to go up to the house and see him."
"But he is very ill—" I began.
"All the more reason we should see him. He may have something to say before his death, if this stroke is fatal."
I could not help but shiver at the words. It seemed awful to me that my uncle should die, at such a time, when he was least prepared!
"I'll do whatever you think best, Mr. Mason," I replied.
"Then come. We will go at once. Delays are always dangerous."
In a moment more we were on the way. While seated in the Elevated car he asked me to tell him my whole story, and I did so, just as I have written it here.
