“Yes, we want to know you,” urged Allison. “Come in. We can’t let you go like that.”
“It’s very late,” urged the young man.
But Allison put out a firm arm, and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him.
“Cloudy,” he said, turning to his aunt, “this man came in the nick of time, and saved me just as I was getting woosey. That fellow sure had a grip on my throat, and something had hit my head and taken away all the sense I had, so I couldn’t seem to get him off.”
“That’s all right. I noticed you were holding your own,” put in the stranger. “It isn’t every man would have tackled two unknown burglars alone.” He spoke in a voice of deep admiration.
“Well, I noticed you were the only man on the spot till the parade was about over,” said Allison, slapping him heartily on the shoulder. “Say, I think I’ve seen you before riding that motor-cycle; tell me your name, please. I want to know you next time I see you.”
“Thanks, I’m not much to know, but I have an idea you are. My name’s Howard Letchworth. I have a room over the garage, and take my meals at the 228 pie-shop. My motor-cycle is all the family I have at present.”
Allison laughed, and held out his hand with a warm grip of admiration.
“I’m Allison Cloud; and this is my sister, Leslie Cloud, and my aunt, Miss Cloud; and this house we call Cloudy Villa. You’ll always be welcome whenever you are willing to come. You’ve saved my life and brought back my sister’s pearls, and put us doubly in your debt. I’m sure no one in this town has a better right to be welcome here. Please sit down a minute, and tell us who you are. You don’t belong to the church bunch, and I don’t think I’ve seen you about the college.”
“No,” said Letchworth, “not this year. I’m a laboring man. I work over at the ship-building plant. If everything goes well with me this winter, I may get back to college next fall. I was a junior last year, but I couldn’t quite make the financial part; so I had to go to work again.”