"How is Sube feeling to-day?" asked Nancy in her most winning tone.
Mrs. Cane had not heard that he was ill, but she guessed at once that his early retirement of the evening before must have been based on an imaginary indisposition. "Come right in, and see for yourself," she invited cordially.
Sube was cornered in the library; there was no escape. And it was with the face of a desperado at bay that he confronted Nancy as she entered.
"Hello!" she called cheerfully. "Feeling better to-day? I was so sorry you couldn't stay last night."
Sube glared at her in silence as she went on placidly.
"I brought over your presents for you. Most of 'em are jokes. You mustn't open 'em until after I go."
But as Mrs. Cane stepped out of the room Nancy changed her mind, and decided to open one present, a longish package which she tore open and from which she produced the butt of a cypress sapling.
"I tried to tell you about this last night," she whispered hurriedly, "but you wouldn't let me get anywhere near you. There! See where the carpenter sawed it off! There's no little black ring on that end at all!"
Sube took the stick into his hands mumbling dazedly, "Well, what do you know about that!"
Instinctively his gaze went to the other end, which he had hacked off with the ax, and on which he saw something that he hastened to cover with his hand. At this moment Mrs. Cane reëntered the room; but she saw nothing of the stick, nor did she notice the deformity of Sube's left side, which was plainly visible through his jacket.