The girl smiled. That was what Barnes had wished.
“No. I fear I can’t assist you in that fabrication,” Aunt Philomela answered curtly.
“There is a bear in the park,” he informed her. “I’ve often watched him. Upon that subject at least I may speak with some authority. But there are many other things in Alaska. Eskimos, for instance. I’m a little weak on Eskimos. In the pictures they look much like the bears except that they carry harpoons. There are also the details of mining—have you ever been interested in mines?”
“Yes,” scowled Aunt Philomela. “In a weak moment Joe persuaded me by letter.”
Clearly that was a delicate subject. He swerved away from it.
“I must post myself on names. I recall only Nome, White Horse, and Dawson.”
The girl smiled again.
“That is a complication,” she exclaimed. “Father is sure to question you. He is interested in travel.”
“I’ll do my best to instruct him.”
“I don’t think you’re justified in imposing upon a helpless old man,” declared Aunt Philomela, severely.