"Whose is that?"
He looked from the girl to the bag and back again, his own cheek reddening. At the instant it occurred to him that it was a peculiar greeting after a separation of years.
"It belongs to Uncle Ish," he answered, with unreasonable embarrassment. "I believe your father gave it to him."
"He might have brought it home for him," was her comment, and immediately:
"Where is he?"
"Uncle Ish? He's on the road."
Her next remark probed deeper, and he winced.
"What were you doing with it?"
Her gaze was warming upon him. He met it and laughed aloud.
"Toting it," he responded lightly.