"Go on!" said the Colonel, keenly. "Go on!—I like that."
But Ernie only wagged a sheepish head.
"That's all," he said reluctantly. "It never got beyond them two lines." He added with a shy twinkle—"That's dad, that is."
A chocolate-bodied car stopped in the street opposite.
Out of it stepped Mr. Trupp.
In it the Colonel saw a lean woman with eyes the blue of steel, fierce black brows, and snow-white hair.
She was peering hungrily out.
"It's mother come after dad," Ernie explained. "In Mr. Trupp's car. That's my brother driving."
The old surgeon, crossing the yard, now met the run-agate emerging from the office and took him kindly by the arm.
"No, no, Mr. Caspar," he scolded soothingly. "They don't want old fellows like you and me to do the bludgeon business. Our sons'll do all that's necessary in that line."