“Don’t you give it another thought, Uncle Herbert,” cried Oliver, returning the bit of paper which Mr. Sage carefully folded and placed in his notebook. “I will arrange everything for you. You must be beside yourself with joy, sir. It’s great, isn’t it? Where is Jane?”
Mr. Sage looked a trifle dazed. “Why—er—oh, yes, she is upstairs putting a few of my things into a suitcase. I—”
Oliver laughed. “For the love of—Why, Uncle Herbert, you’ve got five or six days to spare. The Baltic won’t reach New York for a week anyhow.”
“A week?” in dismay. “Of course! I must be losing my mind. Of course! I seem to remember Jane saying something of the kind a little while ago. Yes, yes! But I do wish you would run along and send the telegram. Do you happen to know of a nice quiet hotel there? Perhaps you wouldn’t mind telegraphing for accommodations for Jane and me. And will you see about reserving something on the train for us? I have done so little traveling of late years, I—”
“Say, you ought to come out in the back yard and put the gloves on with me, Uncle Herbert,” cried Oliver, with sparkling eyes. “I’ll bet you’re twenty years younger than you were yesterday, and I’ve an idea you could plaster it all over me.”
“I—I believe I could,” said Mr. Sage, squaring his thin shoulders and drawing a deep breath. “I—I feel like a—a fighting-cock!”
CHAPTER XVI
MR. JOSEPH SIKES INTERVENES
Now, while Mr. Joseph Sikes was one of the first citizens of Rumley, a good Republican, and a man whose opinions were considered if not always respected, he had no social position, using the term in its present accepted sense. In simple, he was not by way of knowing the “best” people. There had been a time when Joe Sikes was a figure in the social life of Rumley, but that was in the days when “society” functioned, so to speak, in the corner grocery, or on the porch of the toll-gate, or at K. of P. Hall. Conditions in Rumley had changed, but old Joe hadn’t. He was still a “feed store” man, fairly prosperous, blatantly independent, and on speaking terms with “fashion” only in connection with business or politics.
The day was past in Rumley when Joe Sikes could stroll up to anybody’s house, night or day, walk in without knocking, and feel at home with his friends. There were eight or ten thousand people in Rumley now and there was a distinct though somewhat heterogeneous element known to some as the “smart set” and to others as the “stuck-ups.” They were the people whose names and activities filled the society columns of the Rumley Daily Despatch.