Peaches and Alice went into the ice business right away quick.
Aunt Martha, in pained surprise, looked at me and then at Bunch, and finally focused a steady beam of interrogation upon the countenance of Mr. Schwartz.
Ikey never whimpered.
Then Bunch took the letter from the open-eyed Aunt Martha and leaped to the rescue while I came out of the trance slowly.
"It's too bad Mr. Schwartz forgot his ear trumpet," Bunch said quickly, and Ikey was wise to the tip in a minute.
Peaches sniffed suspiciously, and I knew she had the gloves on.
"Mr. Schwartz's affliction is terrible," she said with a chill in every word. "How did you converse with him before our arrival?"
"Oh! he understands the lip language and can talk back on his fingers," I hastened to explain, looking hard at Ikey, whose masklike face gave no token that he understood what was going on.
"I thought I understood you to say Mr. Schwartz is a real estate dealer!" Peaches continued, while the thermometer went lower and lower.
"So he is," I replied.