Mr. Archer, who had known Henry since the Fauntleroy days, greeted him with the proper mixture of repression and cordiality. "But I'm afraid," owned Mr. Archer, "I'm afraid you're going to be a little disappointed."
Henry shook his head. "Then you've sized me up all wrong," he said, much subdued. "Because no matter what I get, I'm going to be satisfied that Uncle John wanted me to have it. Besides, I've apparently got to hump myself, or I don't get anything at all. Aunt Mirabelle gave me some idea of it--I'd thought it was probably an interest in the business, but Bob Standish says it isn't."
"No, it's a building. 361 Main Street. But it's rather more than a mere building; it _is_ a business. It's leased until next Monday; after that it's yours to operate. The deed's recorded now. It's yours outright. Did your aunt tell you what the conditions are?"
"Yes. Oh, he made a separate provision for Miss Starkweather; she'll never go hungry; but the bulk of the estate depends on what you do with the business in the next year. And strictly between ourselves, your uncle expected you to finish with a bit to spare."
"I know this much; if it's anything _he_ doped out for me, it's an even bet. It's to make ten thousand dollars?"
"Yes, and without any outside help except straight commercial loans--if you can get 'em. No favours from anybody, and no free keep from your families."
The lawyer paused to wipe his glasses. "It's one your uncle took over on a mortgage last winter.... You see, Henry, he'd figured out what he was going to do with you, and it would have been this same thing even if he'd lived. He picked out what he thought would do you the most good--get you in touch with different people--break down some of your (excuse me for being blunt) class prejudice--teach you how many dimes there are in a dollar. And for that reason he expressly stipulated that you've got to keep your own books. That'll give you more of a respect for money than anything else would, I guess."
"That's the way Mr. Starkweather began--only in his case, he kept somebody else's. But I warned you to expect something out of the ordinary."
"Oh, yes," said Henry. "I was all set for _some_ kind of a low-brow job. What is it--a garage?"