"What is it he wants you to do?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey. "Did he write to you?"
"No, he got some one to do it for him, and my bookkeeper sent the letter on to me."
"But I thought Uncle Jack was going to the hospital," Bert said.
"So he is, Son. In fact, he is in the hospital now, but he is so ill that they fear he will not get better, even if the doctors do all they can for him. He is afraid he might die and he wants to see me before then. He says he has something he wants to tell me."
"What do you suppose it can be?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"I haven't the least idea. Perhaps it's about his folks. He may have found some of them, or know where they are. If he has any relations they ought to know about him, and not leave him among strangers. Of course I'll do all I can for him. Mr. Whipple has given me some money to spend on Uncle Jack, so I think the poor old woodchopper will be all right, if he can only get well."
"Then you're going to see him?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
