"My brother came with me, as we have always lived together," said Torrence, by way of explanation, "although I only sent my individual card, as it is you and I who have corresponded. I hope we find you well, Mr. Wetherbee, and that this damp weather doesn't disagree with you."
Wetherbee grunted, and poked the fire.
"Nothing disagrees with me," he said after a minute. "I've been hardened to this climate for eighty years. It has done its best to kill me, and failed." Then with a grim smile, he added:
"My figure isn't quite as good as it used to be; but I'm not vain, Mr. Attlebridge; I'm not vain."
"I suppose you've been a sufferer from rheumatism?" I suggested, by way of talk.
Evidently he did not hear me, as he was raking cinders from the bottom of the grate. When he had finished, he said:
"Did you come over from America in your air ship?"
Torrence laughed.
"Not this time, Mr. Wetherbee, but I expect to go back in it," he answered.
"Great confidence! Great confidence!" exclaimed Wetherbee; "Well, I'm glad of it; nothing is ever accomplished without it."