“I feel a hunch,” said Rob, “that Uncle Issachar will run across Doctor Felix and his wife down there in Chili and find you out.”
“He may run across the Polydores,” I replied, “but he’ll never find out from them that they are the parents of Silvia’s children. They would not mention a subject in which they have so little interest.”
“But,” argued Beth, “naturally they’d tell him where they lived, and then, of course, he’d say he had a niece living in the same town. They would inquire her name and inform him that they were her near neighbors, and then he’d tell them what fine sons you have, and then, of course, the Polydores would claim their own.”
“Which theory goes to show,” said 271 Silvia, “how little you know Uncle Issachar and the Polydore seniors. He would not think of speaking to strangers, and if he did, he wouldn’t say any of those usual conversational things you mentioned. The Polydores wouldn’t be interested, in the least, in knowing he had a niece unless she happened to know something about antiques, and if he should describe her children, she wouldn’t recognize them.”
After luncheon I went out on the porch. While I sat there, the mail carrier came along and handed me a letter––a returned letter. It was directed in Ptolemy’s round hand to Mr. Issachar Innes. He had evidently used the envelope to Silvia’s letter to her uncle as his model, for the address was written in the same way. “Personal” was added in the left-hand corner, and his name and our house number was in the upper left-hand corner.
I went into the library where my wife, Beth, Rob, and Ptolemy were sitting.
“Ptolemy,” I said, handing him the letter, “here is your communication to Uncle Issachar, returned.”
He lost some of his usual sang froid and appeared quite disconcerted.
“Why, Ptolemy,” exclaimed Silvia in consternation, “what in the world did you write to Uncle Issachar about?”