“I guess,” he said as lazily as he could; “I guess I’ll walk down and meet Tom. I haven’t been out much to-day.”
There was one thing he had to do. He had to see Tom before Mrs. Fenelby could see him, and explain about that box of cigars. If Tom was to be held responsible for the duty on it Tom should at least know that a box of cigars had been brought into the house. It was absolutely necessary for Billy to see Tom, and explain a few things.
“We have none of us been out enough to-day,” said Mrs. Fenelby. “It will do us all good to walk down to the station, and we will take Bobberts.”
Billy stood still. The cheerful expression that had rested on his face faded. There would be a pretty lot of trouble if the whole lot of them went in a group, and he wondered that Kitty did not see this, and why she did not say something to dissuade Mrs. Fenelby from leaving the house. He simply had to get a few words with Tom in private before Mrs. Fenelby could ask her husband about the cigars.
“When the 6:02 pulled in”
“I wouldn’t advise it,” said Billy, shaking his head. “No, indeed. I wouldn’t take the chance, Laura.” He walked to the end of the porch and peered earnestly at the western sky. It was a singularly clear and cloudless sky. “I’m afraid it will rain,” he explained, boldly. “It wouldn’t do to take Bobberts out and let him get rained on. It looks just like one of those evenings when a rain comes up all of a sudden. I wouldn’t risk it.”
“Nonsense!” said Mrs. Fenelby, shortly, and she gathered the crowing Bobberts into her arms and started. Kitty also arose, but Billy hung back.
“I guess I won’t go,” he declared. “It looks too much like rain.”