"Tony said the man he was fighting with cheated him out of his share of some money," replied Chet. "And that man is gone, so who is to know the truth?"
The stretch of placid Lake Luna between the boat landing of Central High and the easterly end of Cavern Island was dotted with craft of various kinds and sizes, several afternoons later, when the twins slipped away from Aunt Dora and—with a word to their father in a whisper as to their goal—ran down to the dock and got their canoe into the lake.
Aunt Dora was suffering from what she called a "grumbly head"—which meant that she had a mild attack of neuralgia.
"But mercy, sirs!" Mrs. Betsey said, in a tone of exasperation rather strange for that dear old lady, "she has a 'grumbly' tongue all the time. I don't know what I shall do about keeping Mary if she stays much longer, girls."
"For the good of the family I may have to admit my identity and go home with her," groaned Dora.
"No, you sha'n't!" cried her twin. "You shall not be sacrificed. If Mary goes, we'll divide the work between us, and hire a laundress once a week to relieve Mrs. Betsey."
"My! what a bright girl you are, Dory," laughed Dora. "You've got it all fixed, haven't you? But what about after-hour athletics? No canoeing, and other fun. We'd have all our time out of school taken up with the housework."
"I don't care, Dora!" said Dorothy, firmly. "You could never live with Auntie. Why, she'd nag you to death."
"Dear old thing!" sighed Dora. "I wish she could see herself as others see her. How do you suppose papa came to have such a sister?"
"He has all the mildness of his generation of Lockwoods, and Aunt Dora has all the militancy."