Uncle Bob’s face grew suddenly stern. “That’s gossip,” he said shortly.
“I’m sorry.”
He strode to Uncle John’s table and back; then, “That’s all right, old dumpling. Now you go in to Grandma. And remember that Uncle Bob’s going to try to do something that’ll make his dear Phœbe happy. He’s going to try right away—soon—today. For he’s got a plan—a wonderful plan——”
It was Miss Ruth who cut him short. She entered quickly, a little out of breath. And she was pale. “Judge, I’m sorry to trouble you——”
“You never trouble me.” How deep Uncle Bob’s voice could be! Phœbe was standing beside Miss Ruth, her hand in a firm, cool, loving clasp. She watched her uncle narrowly, seeing that what Sophie had told her was true.
“Judge, it’s Manila,” announced Miss Ruth.
“What’s wrong?” asked Uncle Bob.
“Mr. Botts is drinking again. And so—well, you know my neighbor on the other side? She’s very close to the Botts’s. And they’ve got that child locked up, in a room on this side——”
Phœbe drew away from Miss Ruth, and stared up at her. “In prison!” she murmured. Here was another drama, more startling even than this one which concerned Miss Ruth and Uncle Bob’s unrequited love.
Miss Ruth was appealing to Uncle Bob. “My neighbors can hear Manila crying—they heard her in the night, and this morning, too, while it was still dark. Oh, Judge, they say there’s no bed in that room——”