"What do you want to happen?" asked Pamela.
"Something exciting—an air raid, or a fire, or a burglary. Something really to give one spasms!"
Pamela did not reply for a moment. She rested her head on her hand and thought. When she spoke there was an undercurrent of doubt in her voice.
"I don't know whether I ought to tell you," she hesitated. "I'm not supposed to know, only I happened to overhear. I don't care, I shall tell! He's only my uncle by marriage, and I detest him!"
"Do you mean Mr. Hockheimer?" asked Avelyn, in a sudden flutter.
"Yes; I wish I didn't!"
"What about him?"
Pamela hesitated again, then whispered:
"He's coming here, just at dusk, with an axe and a saw."
"What for?"