“B-b-bet it’s a lunch-counter,” says Mark.
“Makes no difference if it is,” says I. “We got to find my uncle, and you got to come along. If you don’t we never will find him, for you’re all he’s got to go by. I never saw him, you know. When mother wrote we were coming she told him to look out for the fattest boy he ever saw, and that the rest of us would be along with you.”
“Huh!” says Mark, disgusted-like.
We stood in front of the depot, looking around and waiting for uncle to come up and speak to us. Pretty soon we saw a man come along squinting at everybody and looking into corners and stretching his neck to see around people. He was a tall man, so tall his head come almost on a level with the top of the door. He had a mustache, too—the biggest one I ever saw, with ends that poked out past his cheeks and then swerved down until they almost touched his shoulders. He didn’t have any hat on, and his overalls didn’t come within six inches of reaching his shoes. I most laughed out loud.
When he came to us he stopped and looked and looked. It was mostly at Mark.
“Hum!” says he, after a minnit. “Fattest boy I ever see.... Fattest.... Boy.” He reached out an arm as long as a fence-rail and pointed at Mark. “You’re him,” says he, and chuckled to himself. “Now, hain’t you him?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but said a little poetry. I found afterward he made it up on the spot.
“I’m lookin’ for a boy who is awful fat,
But I didn’t think you’d be as big as that.”
Then he grinned the mostly friendly grin you ever saw.
“Hieronymous Alphabet Bell is my name,” says he, “and I’m a uncle. Yes, sir. You wouldn’t think to look at me I was an uncle, but I am. My nephew’s name is Jenks. Does any one of you happen to be named Jenks?”