His face darkened. "Something happened to her! She never came back. But she's come alive again in her granddaughter! No indoor cookie for Anne Haven's granddaughter! I'm not exactly a lightweight, but I make my living adding up long rows of figures. If she married me what would be the result?"
The grin returned to his face. "She'd pine away from boredom. I like it. I enjoy it! But the girl for me will have to be a red-headed adding machine."
He stepped back. "When I saw you coming up the walk I lost my head! Sour grapes, fella! If I couldn't have her—I didn't intend to step aside for a rival without putting up a fight! Little boy stuff! I had no call to take a sock at you! You're all right, fella!"
He gave me a resounding thump on the back. "So the best man gets her! Okay, I can be a good loser! I don't know how long you've known her, but I bet if you pop the question tonight, when she has that faraway look in her eyes again—"
"He never bets!" Pete cut in.
I didn't wait to thank him. I was running up the walk toward the house before he could let out a startled grunt. But I heard the grunt—far off in the darkness.
Then a door slammed and I was standing in a brightly lighted living room staring at her. A log fire was crackling in the grate and there was a big, framed painting in oils hanging on the wall, facing the entrance hall.
She was standing directly before the painting, staring down at Flipover. Flipover was wagging his tail and pawing at her knees, and she was stooping and patting him on the head. Only—she wasn't calling him by the name I had given him. She was calling him, "Tow Tow."
"Oh, I can't believe it! I can't, I can't. Granny's pup! You've come home, Tow Tow—and you are Tow Tow! I'd know you anywhere! You precious darling."