We said we surely would.
“And you, young man,” says he to Mark, “when you have any more mysteries to clear up just let me know.”
Mark nodded as sober as could be. Anybody would think he expected to have a couple of mysteries every day.
Mr. Macmillan went off, and we turned back home. As soon as we got in sight of the house we saw uncle had company.
CHAPTER IV
Two men were sitting on the steps, and uncle, tilted back in a chair, was facing them. Nobody seemed to be saying anything as we came up. When we were right close uncle turned and grinned at us.
“Comp’ny, boys,” says he. Then he poked his finger at one visitor. “Jerry Yack,” he says, and Jerry jerked his head. Uncle prodded at the other man. “Ole Skoog,” he says, and Ole jerked his head just like Jerry did. Uncle clean forgot to mention our names at all. It was pretty much of a one-sided introduction, I thought.
We sat down, and nobody said a word. I could see Mark Tidd studying Ole and Jerry and sort of shaking his head over them like he couldn’t make them out. They did nothing but sit and look straight in front of them. They looked like twin brothers, both big and bulging with muscle, both with china-blue eyes and pale hair and cheeks that showed pink through the sunburn.
“Are they brothers?” I whispered to uncle.
“Brothers? Who? Them fellers? Naw. They’re Swedes. That’s what makes ’em look alike. All Swedes look alike. Didn’t you know that? Why, Binney, over in Sweden, where they come from, each feller wears a tag with his name on it. Only way to tell ’em apart. Heard once of a feller losin’ his tag and wanderin’ around for days without bein’ able to find out who he was. When he did find out he found out wrong and had to be somebody else besides himself all the rest of his life. It’s worryin’ about that happenin’ that makes all Swedes so melancholy.”