"Nobody."
"Grandpa hasn't been heard from."
"Grandpa?"
"He's capable of anything. You don't half appreciate him, Elizabeth."
"I know I don't, Peggy, but I think I'm beginning to."
At the supper table they cornered him.
"Well," he admitted to Peggy, "I didn't know as you was upstairs, and I calculated to have Elizabeth blame it on you, but seeing as I'm caught, I'll own up to what I can't hide. I asked that girl in the apothecary shop in Hyannis what was the best kind of a birthday present, and she said a birthday book. I thought that was likely, so I asked to see one. She fetched out a Longfeller book and a Emerson book, and then I see this one standing all alone in a corner, and I took to it right away. Kipling, he writes about things I know something about. So I took him."
"And you are going to put your name in the book the first thing—before any one," Elizabeth declared: "What's your birthday?"
"What day is to-day?"
"The thirtieth of June."