se anyway.

I thought it all over in the garret. But no way out of the dilemma
could I see. I had eaten up all the apples I had brought with me and I
felt flabby and disconsolate. The sight of Uncle Abimelech stalking up
the lane, as erect and lordly as usual, served to deepen my gloom.

I picked up the paper my apples had been wrapped in and looked it over
gloomily. Then I saw something, and Uncle Abimelech was delivered into
my hand.

The whole plan of campaign unrolled itself before me, and I fairly
laughed in glee, looking out of the garret window right down on the
little bald spot on the top of Uncle Abimelech's head, as he stood
laying down the law to Murray about something.

When Uncle Abimelech had gone I went down to Murray.

"Buddy," I said, "I've thought of a plan. I'm not going to tell you
what it is, but you are to consent to it without knowing. I think it
will quench Uncle Abimelech, but you must have perfect confidence in
me. You must back me up no matter what I do and let me have my own way
in it all."

"All right, sis," said Murray.

"That isn't solemn enough," I protested. "I'm serious. Promise
solemnly."

"I promise solemnly, 'cross my heart,'" said Murray, looking like an
owl.

"Very well. Remember that your role is to lie low and say nothing,
like Brer Rabbit. Alloway's Anodyne Liniment is pretty good stuff,
isn't it, Murray? It cured your sprain after you had tried everything
else, didn't it?"

"Yes. But I don't see the connection."

"It isn't necessary that you should. Well, what with your sprain and
my rheumatics I think I can manage it."

"Look here, Prue. Are you sure that long brooding over our troubles up
in the garret hasn't turned your brain?"

"My brain is all right. Now leave me, minion. There is that which I
would do."

Murray grinned and went. I wrote a letter, took it down to the office,
and mailed it. For a week there was nothing more to do.

There is just one trait of Uncle Abimelech's disposition more marked
than his fondness for having his own way and that one thing is family
pride. The Melvilles are a very old family. The name dates back to the
Norman conquest when a certain Roger de Melville, who was an ancestor
of ours, went over to England with William the Conqueror. I don't
think the Melvilles ever did anything worth recording in history
since. To be sure, as far back as we can trace, none of them has ever
done anything bad either. They have been honest, r