"Oh, I do hope she'll be well," said Nancy earnestly; and as Sube passed out of the door she called after him, "I'm going right in and tell mamma about it."
Sube stopped in his tracks. But the heavy front door had slammed behind him. Oh, well, he'd tell them to-morrow that she was sick one minute, and well the next. That would be easy to fix up. But he was not going to stay round there all the evening and have that big tall woman in black keep asking him questions. Probably she'd forget all about the Christmas tree by to-morrow anyway. And besides, nobody would ever suspect his father of hooking a Christmas tree from a cemetery lot. Evergreen trees were so much alike that nobody could tell one from another, for that matter. And dismissing these trivial matters from his mind he paid an unexpected call on his friend Gizzard. He reached home shortly after nine o'clock.
"You oughta see that Chris'mus tree!" he cried as he entered the house. "It's a pippin! We got it all covered with glass balls and nickel-plated shavings and red and green candles, about a million of 'em!"
"When did you do all this?" asked his mother.
"Jus' got through!"
"You did?" she asked incredulously. "Why, I understood Mrs. Guilford to say that you had already left there when she telephoned me over an hour ago."
"Well,—you see—you see, I did leave there, but I jus' went outdoors, and then came right back again."
"But what did you mean by telling her that Auntie Emma was desperately ill and that you had to come home—"
"Did she 'phone you that?" cried Sube eagerly. "Did she honest?"
"Of course she did; and I want to know—"