"Hi, Moster 'Gustus, I found you at last!" exclaimed the darky, as he hurried up. "Your father wants to see you at home this blessed minute. Dem is his 'perative orders."
"Sam," said Gus, putting his hand into his pocket and pulling out a piece of money, "has anything been going on there?"
"Thank you, sah. Not de fustest thing. Ebberything is just as it was when you were dar."
"Nobody to see me, I suppose?"
"Dar's been nobody dere to see you, but dere's been somebody dere to see Moster Bob."
"I don't see what you fellows call that snipe 'Mister' for," said Gus, impatiently. "That title belongs to me. Who were there to see Bob?"
"Wal, sah, Moster 'Gustus, dere was one man dere dat used to be your uncle's gardener," replied Sam. "And de other one was—"
"Watson?" cried Gus.
"I reckon so, sah. And de other one was a right smart-lookin' chap, just about your size. Is you comin' home, sah?"
"It was Sprague, I'll bet," said Gus.