Trouble seemed to know what was going on. He wiggled down from his father's knees and climbed up on those of Uncle Frank. Then he cuddled down in the big man's arms, and the big man seemed to know just how to hold little boys, even if their pet names were like that of Trouble.
"I 'ikes a 'tory!" said Trouble simply. "I 'ikes one very much!"
"Well, now that's too bad," said Uncle Frank with a laugh. "But if daddy and mother say it can't be done, why—it can't!"
"Do you know any short ones?" asked Mr. Martin. "I mean a story that wouldn't keep them up too late, and then keep them awake after they get to bed?"
"Oh, I guess I can dig up a story like that," said Uncle Frank, and he scratched his head, and then stuck one hand down deep in his pocket, as if he intended digging up a story from there.
"Well, I suppose they won't be happy until they hear one," said Mrs. Martin. "So you may tell them one—but let it be short, please."
"All right," agreed Uncle Frank.
"Oh, this is lovely!" murmured Janet.
"What's the story going to be about?" asked Ted.