Deaves saw nothing humorous in the illustration.
"Have you shown the letter to Mrs. Deaves?" asked Evan.
Deaves shook his head. "I suppose they will be writing to her next," he moaned.
"Your father?"
"What's the use?" Deaves struck his forehead. "My position is becoming unbearable!" he cried.
"I'm sorry for you," Evan said, thinking: "If you only had a little more backbone!"
Deaves arose lugubriously. "After all there is nothing for me to do but to ignore this letter," he said. "I suppose you do not feel inclined to help me any further in the matter."
"On the contrary, I'll be glad to," said Evan quickly. "But on my own terms. I have my own score to settle with this gang."
Deaves looked heartened. "Then if I hear from them again what is your telephone number?"
"There is no telephone in this house."