Uncle Billy came back from the “Tutt House Annex,” as Mr. Van Kamp
dubbed the barn, with enough more money to make him love all the
world until he got used to having it. Uncle Billy belongs to a
large family.
Mr. Van Kamp joined the women on the porch, and explained the
attractively novel situation to them. They were chatting gaily when
the Ellsworths came down the stairs. Mr. Ellsworth paused for a
moment to exchange a word with Uncle Billy.
“Mr. Tutt,” said he, laughing, “if we go for a bit of exercise will
you guarantee us the possession of our rooms when we come back?”
“Yes sir-ree!” Uncle Billy assured him. “They shan’t nobody take
them rooms away from you fer money, marbles, ner chalk. A bargain’s
a bargain, an’ I allus stick to one I make,” and he virtuously took
a chew of tobacco while he inspected the afternoon sky with a clear
conscience.
“I want to get some of those splendid autumn leaves to decorate our
cozy apartments,” Mrs. Ellsworth told her husband as they passed in
hearing of the Van Kamps. “Do you know those old-time rag rugs are
the most oddly decorative effects that I have ever seen. They are
so rich in color and so exquisitely blended.”
There were reasons why this poisoned arrow failed to rankle, but
the Van Kamps did not trouble to explain. They were waiting for
Ralph to come out and join his parents. Ralph, it seemed, however,
had decided not to take a walk. He had already fatigued himself, he
had explained, and his mother had favored him with a significant
look. She could readily believe him, she had assured him, and had
then left him in scorn.
The Van Kamps went out to consider the arrangement of the barn.
Evelyn returned first and came out on the porch to find a
handkerchief. It was not there, but Ralph was. She was very much
surprised to see him, and she intimated as much.
“It’s dreadfully damp in the woods,” he explained. “By the way,
you don’t happen to know the Whitleys, of Washington, do you? Most
excellent people.”
“I’m quite sorry that I do not,” she replied. “But you will have
to excuse me. We shall be kept very busy with arranging our
apartments.”
Ralph sprang to his feet with a ludicrous expression.
“Not the second floor front suite!” he exclaimed.
“Oh, no! Not at all,” she reassured him.
He laughed lightly.
“Honors are about even in that game,” he said.
“Evelyn,” called her mother from the hall. “Please come and take
those front suite curtains down to the barn.”
“Pardon me while we take the next trick,” remarked Evelyn with a
laugh quite as light and gleeful as his own, and disappeared into
the hall.
He followed her slowly, and was met at the door by her father.
“You are the younger Mr. Ellsworth, I believe,” politely said Mr.
Van Kamp.
“Ralph Ellsworth. Yes, sir.”
“Here is a note for your father. It is unsealed. You are quite at
liberty to read it.”
Mr. Van Kamp bowed himself away, and Ralph opened the note, which
read: