“Very nice,” said Adam. “He was my only brother, just like Cal is your only brother.”

“Were you twins too?”

“No—not twins.”

Cal asked, “Was he rich?”

“Of course not,” said Adam. “Where’d you get that idea?”

“Well, if he was rich we’d get it, wouldn’t we?”

Adam said sternly, “At a time of death it isn’t a nice thing to talk about money. We’re sad because he died.”

“How can I be sad?” said Cal. “I never even saw him.”

Lee covered his mouth with his hand to conceal his smile. Adam looked back at the letter, and again it changed mood with its paragraph.

“As attorneys for the deceased it is our pleasant duty to inform you that your brother through industry and judgment amassed a considerable fortune, which in land, securities, and cash is well in excess of one hundred thousand dollars. His will, which was drawn and signed in this office, is in our hands and will be sent to you on your request. By its terms it leaves all money, property, and securities to be divided equally between you and your wife. In the event that your wife is deceased, the total goes to you. The will also stipulates that if you are deceased, all property goes to your wife. We judge from your letter that you are still in the land of the living and we wish to offer our congratulations. Your obedient servants, Bellows and Harvey, by George B. Harvey.” And at the bottom of the page was scrawled, “Dear Adam: Forget not thy servants in the days of thy prosperity. Charles never spent a dime. He pinched a dollar until the eagle screamed. I hope you and your wife will get some pleasure from the money. Is there an opening out there for a good lawyer? I mean myself. Your old friend, Geo. Harvey.”

Adam looked over the edge of the letter at the boys and at Lee. All three were waiting for him to continue. Adam’s mouth shut to a line. He folded the letter, put it in its envelope, and placed the envelope carefully in his inside pocket.

“Any complications?” Lee asked.

“No.”

“I just thought you looked concerned.”

“I’m not. I’m sad about my brother.” Adam was trying to arrange the letter’s information in his mind, and it was as restless as a setting hen scrounging into the nest. He felt that he would have to be alone to absorb it. He climbed into the car and looked blankly at the mechanism. He couldn’t remember a single procedure.

Lee asked, “Want some help?”

“Funny!” said Adam. “I can’t remember where to start.”

Lee and the boys began softly, “Spark up—gas down, switch over to Bat.”

“Oh, yes. Of course, of course.” And while the loud bee hummed in the coil box Adam cranked the Ford and ran to advance the spark and throw the switch to Mag.

They were driving slowly up the lumpy road of the home draw under the oak trees when Lee said, “We forgot to get meat.”