Uncle James strode into the house, and his brother turned to Tom for an explanation, and had it.
“But he did not walk back all the way?”
“Every step, uncle, and didn’t seem to mind it.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Uncle Richard, frowning, as he locked up the yard gate and followed his brother into the house.
Half-an-hour later Mrs Fidler announced dinner, when Uncle James came down looking black as thunder, and answered his brother in monosyllables, refusing to speak once to Tom, at whom he scowled heavily.
“I’m sorry you had such an upset, James,” said Uncle Richard at last.
“Thank you,” was the cold reply.
“But I don’t think you are any the worse for it.”
“Thank you!” said Uncle James again, but more shortly.
“Tom, my lad, tell David as soon as dinner is over to borrow the Vicar’s cart, and go to the sand-pit and fetch the broken chair.”