But the old man
trusted him. Was not Francis almost a son to him?
If he had been, he could not have inherited the old man's property more
surely. He stayed over night on Fillmore Hill; and when he departed next
morning, he took with him bank books and securities and a letter to
Palmer's banker which made Francis the custodian of all his money. He
even took a small chamois skin bag filled with gold nuggets which the
old man had saved. And he left behind at the house on Fillmore Hill not
a receipt or a paper of any kind that would indicate that Palmer ever
had had any money. They had burned all such tell-tale records; and Henry
Francis felt that he was guilty of something baser than highway robbery.
Yet, if the stock market should take an upward turn, all might be well.
CHAPTER XV
Three Graves by the Middle Yuba
Gaily bedight
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.
But he grew old--
This knight so bold--
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.
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