"Uh-huh, yer Jake Vodell, the feller what's a-goin' to make all the big bugs hunt their holes, and give us poor folks a chance. Gee, but I'd like to be you!"
The man showed his strong white teeth in a pleased smile. "You are all right, kid," he returned. "I think, maybe, you will play a big part in the cause sometime—when you grow up."
Bobby swelled out his chest with pride at this good word from his hero.
"I'm big enough right now to put a stick o' danermite under old Adam
Ward's castle, up there on the hill."
Little Maggie caught her brother's arm. "Bobby, yer ain't a-goin'—"
The man laughed. "That's the stuff, kid," he said. "But you better let jobs like that alone—until you are a bit older, heh?"
"Mag an' me has been up there to the castle all this afternoon," bragged the boy. "An' we talked with old Adam's daughter, too, an'—an' everything."
The man stared at him. "What is this you tell me?"
"It's so," returned Bobby, stoutly, "ain't it, Mag? An' the other day Helen Ward, she give us a ride, in her autermobile—while she was a-visitin' with the Interpreter up there."
Jake Vodell's black brows were drawn together in a frown of disapproval. "So this Adam Ward's daughter, too, calls on the Interpreter, heh! Many people, it seems, go to this Interpreter." To Bobby he said suddenly, "Look here, it will be better if you kids stay away from such people—it will get you nothing to work yourselves in with those who are not of your own class!"
"Yes, sir," returned Bobby, dutifully.