"Pa set quite a store by Uncle Isaac, and so he let him have th'
money that ought to have gone to pay off th' mortgage. And then
things went wrong. Uncle Isaac died before he could pay pa back th'
money, and from then on things went from bad to worse, until now
we're goin' to lose th' farm."
"But my dear man!" exclaimed Mr. Pertell, "if your uncle owed your
father money, and your father had a note, or any paper to prove his
claim, he could collect from your uncle's estate."
"That's th' trouble," said Sandy. "There wasn't no estate."
"But he must have left something! What became of the money he got
from your father?"
"Nobody knew. You see poor Uncle Isaac went crazy before he died, and
was put in th' asylum. In fact, that's where he died. He was clean
out of his mind."
"But did you try to find what he had done with the money? I should
have thought you could do that."
"We did try, and even got a lawyer to try," replied Sandy. "But it
was no use. Uncle Isaac would only laugh at us. Poor fellow, he meant
all right, but his head give way. He wouldn't have cheated pa for the
world. It was jest an accident--that's all."
"You see he was near our threshing machine one day when there was an
accident. Somethin' broke and Uncle Isaac was hit on th' head.
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