“Sit down,” said Jerry to Bob and Ned, waving his hand toward some porch chairs.
That seemed to settle it in the negro’s mind. Any one who assumed so much must be an expected guest he reasoned even though the clothing of the boys betokened them to be unlike the usual run of visitors.
Somewhat apprehensive of what their reception might be the boys waited. They heard the footsteps of the colored man go echoing down the hall. The big dog, seemingly satisfied that all was right, had resumed his sleep.
The boys heard someone coming along the gravel on the walk at the side of the porch. They looked up, expecting to see the master of the house approaching. They beheld a little man with a round shining bald head, and a fuzz of white whiskers around his chin. Though long past middle age, he came along with sprightly steps. No sooner had he caught sight of the boys than his walk became a run, and he fairly bounded up on the porch.
“Well of all things!” he exclaimed. “Who would have thought to see you here. My but I’m glad to see you. Welcome, fellow fire-fighters!”
The boys rose from their chairs, rather puzzled over the little man’s words and actions. He began shaking hands with them, though, as Bob afterward confessed he was doubtful about engaging in the operation, as he thought the man was a mild lunatic.
“Well, well, but I am glad to see you!” the little man went on. “I’m awfully glad you came. You’re just in time for dinner. Come right in.”
“Oh, friends of yours, Henry?” asked a voice from the doorway, and the boys turned to see a tall stately gentleman coming out on the porch. “You young gentlemen must excuse me,” the tall man went on. “I did not understand Sambo’s message. He said, but you must pardon me for repeating it, but he said there were some tramps out here. But I did not dream there were some old friends of Cousin Henry’s. I am very pleased to meet you.”
All of which was more and more puzzling to the boys.