CHAPTER III
SURPRISING BOB
Betty shook back her hair and rose to kiss the gray-haired gentleman who put an arm affectionately about her.
"I heard about that blast," he said, and smiled good-humoredly. "Lee Chang was much worried when I went in to dinner. His one consolation was that you had eaten the tart before the oil began to fall."
"We were all right, only of course it rather daubed us up," said Bob.
"Betty had to wash her hair."
"My hair's nothing," declared Betty scornfully. "But my brand-new blouse that I worked on for two days—you ought to see it, Uncle Dick! Grandma Watterby thinks maybe she can get the oil out, but she says the color may come out, too."
Mr. Gordon sat down on the step and took off his hat.
"You've a clear claim for damages, Betty," he assured his niece gravely.
"To save time, I'm willing to make good; what does a new blouse cost?"
"This wasn't exactly new," explained Betty fairly. "Aunt Faith had the material in her trunk for years. But it was the first thing I ever made, and I was so proud of it."
"Well, we'll see that you have something to take its place," promised her
uncle, drawing her down beside him. "I have some news for you, Betsey.
When you go East next week, I'm going, too. That is, as far as Chicago.
From there I take a little run up into Canada."