"Like hell you have!" irreverently ejaculated Cameron, pleasantly. "Why, Uncle Dave, you've got muscle all over you from fighting the demon in you, but you have no ugly scars. We can look each other in the eyes as we couldn't—if there were scars. It's all right, Uncle Dave. We'll get Mother here before long and have a bully time."
Martin could not speak for a moment; he was looking ahead to the time when he'd have only this boy and his mother!
"Well, what's up, Uncle Dave?"
"Bud, have you suspected anything about Miss Fletcher? Her health, I mean?"
"Yes. I've studied about her, too."
"And kept quiet, eh?"
"Sure! But, Uncle Davie, if we—" Martin blessed him for that "we"—"if we could get her outside of herself, it would do a lot for her. I've a hunch that you have let her get on the shelf. I wouldn't if I were you! I know it may be necessary to keep her to rules, but she thinks too much about the rules; they cramp her. When Nancy marries—what then?"
"The Lord knows!"
"Where's that other girl—Joan?"
Martin's face hardened.