The door opened. "Howdys" and hand shakes. The Captain, puckering up his funny little mouth, not unlike that of a sucker fish, addressing himself to the father, inquired:
"John, where's Bill's Charley?"
The "I don't know" answer surprised the Captain.
Looking at "Al-f-u-r-d" in a quizzical manner, he said:
"I thought he was staying with you all."
The father replied spiritedly, and he seemed to be addressing himself to "Al-f-u-r-d" as much as to the Captain:
"No, he ain't here any more. I wouldn't permit him to enter my house; he's so infernal ornery that his father had to drive him out. Bill jes' told him to go out and dig fer himself. We've washed our hands of that boy. His end will be the House of Refuge."
"But John," and the Captain looked serious, "who sent Alfred and Charley out on a foraging expedition last night with your old mare and wagon?"
Both men looked hard at "Al-f-u-r-d."
With a consciousness born of innocence, "Al-f-u-r-d" pulled himself up to his full height, running his thumbs under his first pair of elastic suspenders, a present from Cousin Charley, who had remarked as he adjusted them: "None of my relations will run around here with one gallus when I've got money."