“I am glad.”
“That the papers are safe?”
“Bother the old papers!” cried Tom; “that you have punished him like that.”
Then the lad burst into a fit of peculiar laughter, and became calm the moment after.
“Come on, uncle,” he cried; “I want to show you the three plane mirrors that I’ve ground.”
“Beauties, Tom,” said Uncle Richard a few minutes later. “Tom, my lad, you’re my dear sister’s son, and the queerest boy I ever met.”
“Am I, uncle?” said Tom dryly.
“Yes, my lad.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not a bit, Tom. I’m glad.”