The secret--and he knew full well that there was a secret--had been in the atmosphere about him ever since he could remember.

Whether or not this was the solution of it, Robert Fairchild did not know, and the natural reticence with which he had always approached anything regarding his father's life gave him an instinctive fear, a sense of cringing retreat from anything that might now open the doors of mystery.

But it was before him, waiting in his father's writing, and at last his gaze centered; he read: My son: Before I begin this letter to you I must ask that you take no action whatever until you have seen my attorney--he will be yours from now on.
I have never mentioned him to you before; it was not necessary and would only have brought you curiosity which I could not have satisfied.
But now, I am afraid, the doors must be unlocked.

I am gone.

You are young, you have been a faithful son and you are deserving of every good fortune that may possibly come to you.