hat. But these
high life break-aways are so common you can't keep track of all of 'em,
and she sprung it so offhand that I didn't more'n half tumble to what
she meant.

"I suppose I may have Gerald now?" she goes on.

"Sure," says I. "I'll bring him down." And as I skips up the stairs I
sings out, "Hey, Mr. Smith! Your maw's come for you!"

There was nothin' doin', though. I knocks on the door, and calls
again. Next I goes in. And say, it wa'n't until I'd pawed over all
the clothes, and looked under the bed and into the closet, that I could
believe it. He must have got up at daylight, slipped down the back way
in his stockin' feet, and skipped. The note on the wash stand clinches
it. It was wrote kind of wobbly, and the spellin' was some streaked;
but there wa'n't any mistakin' what he meant. He was sorry he had to
tell so many whoppers, but he wa'n't ever goin' home any more, and he
was much obliged for my tip about the freight car. Maybe my jaw didn't
drop.

"Thick head!" says I, catchin' sight of myself in the bureau glass.
"You would get humorous!"

When I goes back down stairs I find Mrs. Greene pacin' the porch.
"Well?" says she.

I throws up my hands. "Skipped," says I.

"Do you mean to say he has gone?" she snaps.

"That's the size of it," says I.

"Then this is Rutgers's work. Oh, the beast!" and she begins stampin'
her foot and bitin' her lips.

"That's where you're off," says I; "this is a case of----"

But just then another big bubble comes dashin' up, with four men in it,
and the one that jumps out and joins us is the main stem of the fam'ly.
I could see that by the way the lady turns her back on him. He's a
clean cut, square jawed young feller, and by the narrow set of his eyes
and the sandy colour of his hair you could guess he might be some
obstinate when it came to an argument. But he begins calm enough.

"I'm Rutgers Greene," says he, "and at the police station they told me
Gerald was here. I'll take charge of him, if you please."

"Have you brought a bunch of sleut's too?" says I.

He admits that he has.

"Then chase 'em off the grounds before I has another mental typhoon,"
says I. "Shoo 'em!"

"If they're not needed," says he, "and you object to----"

"I do," says I.

So he has his machine run out to the road again.

"Now," says I, "seein' as this is a family affair----"

"I beg pardon," puts in Greene; "but you hardly understand the
situation. Mrs. Green