········
“Good-bye, Mrs. V. S’long, Leff,”—said the Mayor one morning as he appeared equipped for traveling.
“Going east for stock,”—he said briefly, when languidly interrogated by Imogene as to the whys and whences of this sudden trip. “You and Leff can run things a few days without me,”—he said satirically.
“I should remark,”—responded Imogene in her own pretty way.
There was a peculiar grin on Mr. Vanderhook’s face as he put on his hat. He commended his wife to the care of the Mystic with these portentous words,—“Enjoy yourself while you can, for none of us knows what may happen next.”
In a fortnight he had returned, was again in the cellar busier than ever. Presently there came by express a fresh consignment for the laboratory. A heavily wrapped and curiously crated package, not larger than a small tub, which required several men to convey it from the wagon to the underground workshop.
And the guilty pair asked no questions. Chemical experiments, as such, had no interest for them.
“Bet you it’s a music box,”—said Imogene, who had noted its arrival from the parlor window.
“Or a picture machine,”—suggested Lonnie, without taking the trouble to remove his eyes from the face of the “lady-bird.” “And do you know,” he continued listlessly, “that these ordinary humans are doing some very clever work nowadays?”