"It doesn't take much to worry him when it concerns Dora," remarked Tom, dryly.
"Well, it wouldn't take much to worry you if it concerned Nellie," retorted his younger brother.
"That's true, Sam; and the same would hold good with you if it were Grace." And then Tom dodged as Sam picked up a sofa pillow and threw, it at him.
The little French clock belonging to Dora was just chiming out the hour of seven when the two boys heard Dick and his wife coming through the hallway. They were talking earnestly, and evidently the young wife was quite excited.
"Oh, such an experience as I've had!" cried Dora, as she came in and sank down into an easy chair.
"Well now, try to calm yourself," said Dick, soothingly. "It's all over now."
"What was it about?" demanded Tom. "Did somebody hold you up, or try to steal your purse?"
"Maybe an auto tried to run over you," suggested Sam.
"No, it was none of those things," answered the young wife. "I've just had the strangest experience!"
"She met that gardener you spoke about—the fellow who lost his job at the seminary," explained Dick. "That chap named Andy Royce."