“Say, have you,—that is,—has Bev sent any message to you today? What! She’s there, in bed? Great Scott! When did she come?”
“Three-thirty this morning on Apache? And all in? Gee! But she’s all right now? You have just been hearing the whole story from her? She did those thirty-five miles in three hours? Jimminy Christmas! Say, she’s a pippin! Bully girl! I knew that pie-face over at her school would queer the whole show. Say, Uncle Ath, I’d just like to put one over on her for fair. What did she do to Bev, anyhow?”
“She never! What, told her she lied!” Athol very nearly kicked over the little phone stand.
“And Bev wouldn’t stand for it and lit out? Snappy work! I say, Uncle Ath, let me come home, please, and hear all about it. I’ll blow up if you don’t say yes, honest, I shall. The Doctor won’t let me? You bet he will. He and Mrs. Kilton are right here beside me and almost dancing up and down. They’re peaches.”
“Oh, I beg your pardon!” he jerked over his shoulder. “But they are all right. They’ve been almost worried to death. They heard of it early this morning and wanted to get word to you right off, but didn’t dare butt in, you see....
“Yes, they have just said I may come and I’ll be down on the first train in the morning. I mustn’t say a word to Arch. Oh, Uncle Ath! Well, I won’t if you say not but I reckon I’ll burst if I don’t tell him. You don’t want the old maid to get wise that Bev’s at Woodbine? Going to give her a little dose of discipline? Oh, I say, Uncle Ath, give her all that’s coming to her. She rates it all right, all right. She’s made things just too darned hot for Bev, and a whole bunch of the girls up there. Everybody hates her.”
“Eh?” as Mrs. Kilton’s hand was laid warningly upon his shoulder. Dr. Kilton had turned hastily away. He could not trust his countenance, nor did he wish to hear too much. The boy which had never died in him was rebelling in sympathy with Athol.