"No," he said, "we'll come around and help you put up the team. No use washing up till we get our things."
Silas, with the spring-wagon, duly appeared. On top of the baggage, legs in air, was the discarded canopy of the carryall. Beside Silas sat Nelton. He was trembling all over. In his lap he held Lewis's hat. His bulging eyes were fastened on it.
"There they be," grunted Silas. "Told you they was all right. William be a keerful driver."
Nelton raised his eyes slowly. They lit, with wonder.
"Mr. Leighton," he cried, "Master Lewis, are you safe?'
"Quite safe, Nelton," said Leighton. "Why?"
Nelton mutely held out Lew's hat and jerked his head back at the wrecked canopy.
"Oh, yes," said Leighton, nodding; "we dropped those. Thank you for picking them up. Take the bags up-stairs."
"Lew," said Leighton, as they were washing, "did you use to have dinner at night at Nadir or supper?"
"Supper," said Lewis.