The school bell had rung long since, quite unheeded by me, who had been hanging breathless over the back of mother’s chair, and now, while mother got ready for the journey, I raced away to summon Dick. He had started for school earlier than I, having some errands to do on the way, so to the school-house I had to go after him. He turned quite white when he came out in answer to the message I sent in for him and saw me standing there, fairly gasping with excitement.
“What is it, Biffkins?” he demanded, hoarsely. “Not—”
“Grandaunt Nelson’s dead,” I began; “and, oh, Dick! we’re to go down to hear the will—by the ten-thirty—we must hurry!”
“All right,” he said, his colour coming back. “Wait till I get excused,” and he hurried away to tell the principal of the sudden summons.
He was back in a moment, cap in hand.
“All right,” he said. “Come along,” and we hastened from the building.
“You’re not angry with me, Dick?” I asked, for he still seemed a little white and shaken.
“Angry?” he repeated, looking down at me with a quick smile. “Why, no, Biffkins. But you needn’t have frightened a fellow half to death. I thought—I thought—no matter what I thought.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten you, Dick. But I haven’t told you all about it yet,” I went on, trotting along by his side. “There’s a mystery—you know how I adore mysteries!”
“What sort of mystery?” he asked, with provoking coolness.