Bob was thunderstruck. Did his uncle intend to cast him off in that style?
"I hates to say it to a gemman," continued the negro, "but ole Moster say dem's his 'perative orders."
"Does—does he know I am Bob Nellis?" asked our hero, at a venture.
"Sah?" yelled the darky. "Is you Moster Bob? 'Fore Moses, we's expectin' you. Your rooms am all done fix up nice. I fix 'em myself. Come dis way, sah. Your uncle is in de library."
Bob, whose equanimity was not altogether restored by this assurance and the change his name had produced in the darky's bearing toward him, followed to the house, and was presently ushered into the library. His uncle was there, busy with some papers, which he hastily bundled out of sight as his nephew entered.
"Why, Bob!" he exclaimed, with more apparent cordiality than the boy had expected to see him exhibit, "I didn't know that was you when I sent Sam to order you out. Sit down. You are welcome to my house."
This was said with so much emphasis on the pronoun that Bob took his cue from it and at once decided on his course.
"Uncle Luther," said he, suddenly, "I should like to know just how matters stand here. You said in one of your letters that you would explain everything when you saw me."
(Bob had noted, with some bitterness, that his uncle did not say, "When you come home.")
"Never mind that now," said Mr. Layton, hastily. "We will have some breakfast before we talk business. I can tell you everything you wish to know in two minutes."