"Donovan," he said sharply. "I thought children were not allowed in this building?"
"No more they are, Mr. Wells," Larry tried to speak pleasantly. "There's a clause in every lease that says so."
"Then why do you allow a child to run all over the place?" Mr. Wells wanted to know and he scowled fiercely.
Larry straightened himself and a dull red crept up into his face. "If you mean my niece by your remarks," he said stiffly, "she isn't a child. She's—she's," he stumbled, "she's goin' on fourteen."
"She has a long time to go before she ever reaches fourteen," grimly. "Do Brown and Lawson know you have a child living with you?"
"They do not." Larry's tone was as short and crisp as pie crust.
"H-m," was all Mr. Wells said to that but he looked at Larry before he went into his apartment and slammed the door.
"The ol' chimpanzee 'll tell Brown an' Lawson," Uncle Larry told Aunt Kate when he came down and found her in the bedroom. "That's what he'll do. He's goin' to complain about Mary Rose."
Aunt Kate stared at him. "An' what'll you do, Larry Donovan? What'll you do then?"
"I'll tell them they know what they can do if they don't like it," he answered gruffly. "I've been a good man for the place. I've kept the peace with the tenants though, God knows, it's been no easy job. I've kept the bills down an' made a lot of the repairs myself an' if Brown an' Lawson want to fire me just because my niece, my wife's niece, an inoffensive little kid, is livin' with us why they can fire. That's what they can do. I'd be ashamed to stay an' work for them."