When it was all over the boys went back to their room and prepared for bed. The evening had been a happy one for them and they discussed it gravely, thankful for their opportunity to have been of service to George Long.
“It must have been a wonderful feeling for him,” Don remarked, as he washed for bed.
“Yes, indeed,” agreed Terry. “It was a happy evening for Mrs. Long, too.”
“I’d rather be George Long, with all his years of carrying the shadow, than Arthur Gates, whose life has practically been a failure,” Jim observed.
“You’re dead right,” Don assented. “Well, now the mystery is solved, and I wonder what we’ll do next? Settle down to a tame life, probably.”
On the following morning they looked out of the windows at a bleak, rain-washed day. Jim growled in disgust.
“Golly, what rain!” he grumbled. “It is fairly coming down in buckets. That means indoor sports for a time.”
“Yes, and it looks like the kind of a rain that lasts a while,” sighed Don.
Terry grinned with his usual cheerfulness. “Don’t let a little water dampen your spirits, my boys,” he advised. “A little rain won’t alter our lives!”
