Mr. Mosby turned at the curbing and with a confidential air: "We'll just get a bite to eat in here," indicating a tiny little lunch room crammed in between two ramshackle old frame buildings. "Your Aunt Loraine was a bit indisposed this morning."
This established one conclusion. He was at least not expected at home. More than that, he could not decide without further premises.
They occupied stools at a high counter covered with oilcloth. Uncle Buzz ordered rolls and coffee. Joe took rolls and coffee. There was a period of silence as they waited.
Directly Mr. Mosby began talking in a low tone: "It's a rather fortunate thing you came up this week-end, Joseph. I was rather afraid you mightn't." He paused and Joe, while he felt reasonably sure of just what would come next, listened with polite interest.
"I've been troubled with frightful headaches this past week," he continued, "so severe that I could scarcely see the open page before me."
Joe murmured his regret over the cup's brim.
The old man paused and seemed to consider. Then hesitantly continuing: "If you could spare an hour or two this afternoon——?"
"Surely I can, Uncle Buzz. Easiest thing you know."
The old man breathed deep and long and set down his coffee cup. "It is a trifling matter of some forty-six dollars. Would you like to go out to Montgomery's this afternoon? He has a couple of two-year-olds that he will be shipping down for the Derby now pretty soon."
"I'd be very pleased to, Uncle Buzz."