.

"Evelyn--that Somerville boy is here."

"Oh! bother! What's he doin' here?"

"He says he came to call. He's got a box of candy."

"Piffle! What do I care about candy? He's just a kid!"

Naomi went to the hall door. "Right this way, Charley." And as the
slender, overdressed young gentleman of nineteen entered the room,
Carroll again glimpsed the light of amusement in Naomi's eyes.

Mr. Charley Somerville expressed himself as being "Pleaset'meetcha" and
tried to conceal his vast admiration when Evelyn informed him that this
was _the_ David Carroll. Charley was impressed but he was not particular
about showing it--Charley fancying himself considerable of a cosmopolite,
thanks to a year at Yale. His dignity was excruciatingly funny to Carroll
as the very young man seated himself, crossed one elongated and
unbelievably skinny leg over the other and arranged the creases so that
they were in the very middle.

"A-a-ah! Taking a vacation from your work on the Warren murder case,
I presume?"

Carroll nodded. "Yes--for awhile."

"Detective work must be a terrible bore--mustn't it?"

"Sometimes," answered Carroll significantly.

"Charley Somerville!" Evelyn flamed to the defense of her friend's
profession. "At least Mr. Carroll ain't--isn't--a college freshman."

"I'm a sophomore," asserted Charley languidly. "Passed all of my exams."

"Anyway," snapped Evelyn, "he ain't any kid!"

For a time the atmosphere was strained. Then Carroll recalled a
particularly good college joke he knew and he told it well. After which
Evelyn explained to Charley that Mr. Carroll was the wonderfulest piano
player in the world and David Carroll, detective, strummed out several
popular airs while the youngsters danced.

Horrible as the situation was, it appealed irresistibly to his sense of
humor. He found himself almost enjoying it. And he worked carefully.
Eventually his patience was rewarded. He succeeded in getting them
together on a lounge with a photograph album between them. And then, very
quietly and positively, and with a brief--"Excuse me for a moment," he
walked through the hall and into the living room.

Lawrence and his wife were at opposite sides of the library table. At
sight of Carroll, Lawrence laid down his paper and rose to his feet.

"Well?" he inquired inhospitably.

Carroll laughed lightly. "It got too much for me. Too much youth. I
dropped in here for a chat with you folks."

"I didn't understand that you