“Because. Oh, just because——”
“I hear Rock’s whistle.”
They ran up the walk down which Rock was coming. “Here we are,” cried Eleanor. “Hurry, Rock, Cassy has something to tell you.”
“I know,” he returned as he came near. “Father told me.”
“No, I don’t believe you do know it,” Eleanor declared. “It is not the railroad money; it is something else.”
“What is it?” Rock had come up to them.
Cassy clasped her hands tightly and looked from one to the other.
“John McClure is my truly uncle.”
“I don’t believe it,” cried Eleanor. “You are joking. How can he be?”
“He is truly, my owny downy uncle.”