“I wondered,” he said.
Johnson’s usually cheerful countenance was glum.
“I reckon he is mean enough to be a Frog or ’most anything,” he said, and at that minute Ray and his sister came into view. On Ray’s forehead sat a thundercloud, which deepened at the sight of Dick Gordon. The girl was flushed and obviously on the verge of tears.
“Hallo, Gordon!” the boy began without preliminary. “I fancy you’re the fellow that has been carrying yarns to my sister. You set Elk to spy on me—I know, because I found Elk in the act——”
“Ray, you’re not to speak like that to Mr. Gordon,” interrupted the girl hotly. “He has never told me anything to your discredit. All I know I have seen. You seem to forget that Mr. Gordon is father’s guest.”
“Everybody is fussing over me,” Ray grumbled. “Even old Johnson!” He grinned sheepishly at the bald man, but Johnson did not return the smile.
“Somebody has got to worry about you, boy,” he said.
The strained situation was only relieved when John Bennett, camera on back, came up the red path to greet his visitors.
“Why, Mr. Johnson, I owe you many apologies for putting you off, but I’m glad to see you here at last. How is Ray doing at the office?”
Johnson shot a helpless and pathetic glance at Dick.