ll take turns cooking--"

"Who's elected to do the poisoning first?" Val inquired with interest.
"I trust we possess a good cook-book?"

"Well, I'll take breakfast tomorrow morning," Rupert volunteered.
"Anyone can boil coffee and toast bread. As for dishes, we'll all pitch
in together. And suppose we start right now."

When the dishes were back again in their neat piles on the cupboard
shelves, Ricky vanished upstairs, to come trailing down again in a
house-coat which she fondly imagined made her look like one of the
better-known screen sirens. The family gathered in an aimless way before
the empty fireplace of the Long Hall. Rupert was filling a black pipe
which allowed him to resemble--in very slight degree, decided Val--an
explorer in an English tobacco advertisement. Val himself was stretched
full length on the couch with about ten pounds of cat attempting to rest
on his center section in spite of his firm refusal to allow the same.

"Br-r-r!" Ricky shivered. "It's cold in here."

"Probably just Uncle Rick passing through--not the weather. No, cat, you
may not sit on that stomach. It's just as full of bacon as yours is and
it wants a nice long rest." Val swept Satan off to the floor and he
resignedly went to roost by the boy's feet in spite of the beguiling
noises Ricky made to attract his attention.

"These stone houses are cold." Rupert scratched a match on the sole of
his shoe. "We ought to have flooring put down over this stone paving. I
saw some wood stacked up in an outhouse when I put the car away. We'll
have it in tomorrow and see what we can do about a fire in the evening."

"And I thought the South was always warm." Ricky examined her hands.
"Whoever," she remarked pleasantly, "took my hand lotion better return
it. The consequences might not be very attractive."

"Are you sure you packed it this morning?" Val asked.

"But of--" Her fingers went to her mouth. "I wonder if I did? I've just
got to have some. We'll drive to town tomorrow and get a bottle."

"Thirty miles or so for a ten-cent bottle of gooey stuff," Val
protested.

"Good idea." Rupert stood with his back to the fireplace as if there
really were a flame or two within its black emptiness. "I've some papers
that LeFleur wants to see. Then there're our boxes at the freight
station to arrange transportation for, and we'll have to see about
getting a newspaper and--"

"Make a list," murmured his brother.

Rupert dropped down upon the