"Do you know who that man was who was with your father?" he asked excitedly when we were in the street. "It was Mr. James Milligan, your friend's uncle."
I stood staring at him in the middle of the pavement. He took me by the arm and dragged me on.
"I was not going out all alone," he continued, "so I went in there to sleep, but I didn't sleep. Your father and a gentleman came into the stable and I heard all they said; at first I didn't try to listen but afterward I did.
"'Solid as a rock,' said the gentleman; 'nine out of ten would have died, but he pulled through with pneumonia.'
"'How is your nephew?' asked your father.
"'Better. Three months ago the doctors again gave him up, but his mother saved him once more. Oh, she's a marvelous mother, is Mrs. Milligan.'
"You can imagine when I heard this name if I did not glue my ears to the window.
"'Then if your nephew is better,' continued your father, 'all you've done is useless.'
"'For the moment, perhaps,' replied the other, 'but I don't say that Arthur is going to live; it would be a miracle if he did, and I am not afraid of miracles. The day he dies the only heir to that estate will be myself.'
"'Don't worry; I'll see to that,' said Driscoll.
"'Yes, I count on you,' replied Mr. Milligan."
My first thought was to question my father, but it was not wise to let them know that they had been
