“By the great jumping jingo, I hope she didn’t try my lane with her old carriage!” exclaimed Big Josh. “That lane, with the women in my family at the end of it, would be the undoing of poor old Cousin Ann. May I use 227 your phone, Bob? I think I’ll find out if she’s there before I go home.”
Every man rang up his home and every man breathed a sigh of relief when he found that Miss Ann had not arrived. Wild and varied were their surmises concerning where she had gone.
“This is the most disgraceful thing that ever happened in the family,” declared Timothy Graves. “Of course I know I am only law-kin, but still I feel the disgrace.”
“You needn’t be so proud of yourself, Tim, because you were some kin already before you married Sister Sue,” chided Brother Tom. “I can’t see that you are not in on it too.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Yes, but you said it because you really felt it in your favor that you were law-kin,” put in Little Josh.
“Nonsense!”
“Come, come,” pleaded Mr. Bob Bucknor, “rowing with each other isn’t finding out where Cousin Ann has gone. Kizzie! Aunt Em’ly!” he shouted, “get that cracked ice and mint now. Come on, you fellows, and let’s see if we can find any inspiration in the bottom of a frosted goblet.”