“I’ve just got to play detective,” he told himself in explanation for his peculiar conduct, “and keep an eye on that smart stranger. I don’t believe more than half he says. He knows something about Silas Langhorne, who was mebbe a pal of his up in Alaska, and is bent on imposing on these simple people. But p’raps he’ll run up against a snag when he finds he’s got Leslie Capes to contend with.”
Old Grandpop Horner entertained the wanderer while these preparations for supper were under way. Of course, most of his talk ran along the lines of his extraordinary adventures in the long-ago, when he fought through the Civil War. Indeed, no matter what line the conversation opened with, it was sure to drift to those times that had been stamped so indelibly on the old veteran’s mind.
Dick presently found that his mother needed him no longer and so joined his chum, who was playing with little Sue, some seven years of age, a winsome girl with chestnut curls, and a slight lisp that made her more attractive than otherwise might have been the case.
Even Grandpop had his duties to perform, and was set to work grinding the coffee, a favorite task he delighted in. Silas had arisen from his chair, and was wandering about the cozy room looking at the pictures on the walls, some of them family portraits.
“Well, I haven’t had much time to say how-d’ye-do, Leslie,” remarked Dick, as he dropped down beside the other. “You see with this queer thing happening it’s excited us a heap. Did you run over to tell me anything special?”
“Oh!” explained the other, “I was just passing and thought I’d ask you for that list of books you promised to give me, some that you won in that puzzle contest a year ago. I’m getting things together, you know, so Mr. Holwell can start looking the books over, and deciding which ones he thinks suitable for our new library.”
“I’m glad you came when you did,” chuckled Dick; “because it was just in time to see the reunion. I guess this is about the queerest thing that ever happened to us.”
“How did you happen to meet—er, your Uncle Silas?” queried Leslie.
“Oh! he was sitting by the side of the road resting when I came by,” the other went on to say. “My shabby old wheel had broken down, and I was trundling it along. Only for that I might have whirled past and never noticed him.”
“Did he stop you and ask who you were?” pursued Leslie, curiously, for the newcomer was just then at the other side of the room talking with little Susie.