It wouldn't bring its face value to-day." Harry caught his breath: "My God!--you don't tell me so! Poor Uncle George--so fine and splendid--so good to everybody, and he has come to this! And about this mortgage--who owns it ?" "Mr.Gorsuch, I understand, owns it now: he bought it of the Tyson estate." "You mean John Gorsuch--my father's man of business ?" "Yes." "And was there nothing left ?--no money coming in from anywhere ?" Pawson shook his head: "We collected all that some time ago--it came from some old ground rents." "And how has he lived since ?" He wanted to hear it all; he could help better if he knew how far down the ladder to begin.
"From hand to mouth, really." And then there followed his own and Gadgem's efforts to keep the wolf from the door; the sale of the guns, saddles, and furniture; the wrench over the Castullux cup--and what a godsend it was that Kirk got such a good price for it--down to the parting with the last article that either or both of them could sell or pawn, including his four splendid setters.
As the sad story fell from the attorney's sympathetic lips Harry would now and then cover his face with his hands in the effort to hide the tears.

He knew that the ruin was now complete.

He knew, too, that he had been the cause of it.

Then his thoughts reverted to the old regime and its comforts: those which his uncle had shared with him so generously.
"And what has become of my uncle's servants ?" he asked--"his cook, Aunt Jemima, and his body-servant, Todd ?" "I don't know what has become of the cook, but he took Todd with him." Harry heaved a sigh of relief.

If Todd was with him life would still be made bearable for his uncle.