"She did neither. She rubbed her cheek."
"I'll warrant!" my host bawled. "Oh, this is rich! A bunko-steerer!"
"Miss Berkeley," I whispered, "we are quits."
"Not yet,"—ominously.
It was almost time for me to go!
"I was going to ask your pardon," said the uncle in his hunter-voice; "but I think you have been paid for your trouble. Is there anything you would like?"
"Three things, sir."
"And these?" he asked, while every one looked curiously at me. I was still an unknown quantity.
"My hat, my coat, and the way to the door, for I presume you have no further use for me."
My reply appealed to the guests as monstrous funny. It was some time ere the laughter subsided. My host seemed threatened with an attack of apoplexy.