"There he is!" exclaimed Pen, pointing to the tower foot.
"It is! It's Still Jim! Is me collar entirely wilted?"
Pen laughed. "Uncle Denny, you're as fussed as a girl at meeting her sweetheart! You look beautiful and you know it. There! He sees us!"
Uncle Denny lost a little of his color and stood still. Jim came striding down the road. His eyes were black with feeling. Without a word he threw his arms around Uncle Dennis and hugged that rotund person off his feet.
"Still Jim, me boy!" cried Uncle Denny. "I've come out to lick the world for ye!"
Jim loosened his bear hug and stepped back. His smile was brilliant.
"Uncle Denny, you look like a tailor's ad! Doesn't he, little Penelope?"
There was something in Jim's voice as he spoke Pen's name that Michael Dennis understood as clearly as if Jim had shouted his feeling for Pen in his ear.
"I'm starving to death," he said hastily. "Take me home, Still. Come along, Pen."
Mrs. Flynn was surveying the trunk as it stood on end in the living room. She was talking rapidly to herself and as the three came up on the porch she cried: