“Then I’ll take the responsibility of saying you may have your day off. Indeed, I’m sure you ought to. Go ahead, child, and if anybody inquires about it, refer him to me. But you must be back in your place tomorrow. They may need you in—in settling up matters, you know——”
“Oh, gee, yes! I’ll be on deck tomorrow, Miss. But I want today somepin’ fierce,—fer very special reasons.”
“Very well, run along, Fibsy.”
Avice stood looking after the red-headed boy, who seemed for the moment so closely connected with her uncle’s memory. But he darted out of the open front door and up the street, as one on most important business bent.
The girl went on to the library, and found there Kane Landon and the reporter Pinckney busily engaged in the staccato chatter of reunion. Meeting for the first time in five years, they reverted to their college days, even before referring to the awfulness of the present situation.
“But I must beat it now,” Pinckney was saying, as Avice appeared.
“Look me up, old scout, as soon as you can get around to it. A reporter’s life is not a leisure one, and I’ve got to cover this story in short order. Mighty unpleasant bit for you, that Cain speech. No harm done, but it will drag your name into the paper. So long. Good-by, Miss Trowbridge. I may see you again sometime,—yes?”
“I hope so,” said Avice, a little absently. “Good-by.”
Then she turned to Landon. For a moment they took each other’s two hands and said no word.
Then, “It’s great to see you again,” he began; “I’d scarcely recognize the little pig-tailed girl I played with five years ago.”