“We went around a different way,” Penny answered, and then before he could ask another question, interposed one of her own. “By the way, do you know where I could get a picture of Jacob Winters?”
Old Caleb dropped his fish knife. It took him a long time to recover it from the ground.
“What do you want of a picture?” he questioned gruffly.
“Oh, I just need it,” Penny said evasively.
“I’d like to have one myself,” Rosanna added sincerely. “I never had a photo of my uncle.”
“If you find he’s cut you out of all his property I guess you probably won’t be so anxious to have a picture of the old cod,” Caleb observed.
Rosanna drew herself up proudly.
“It wouldn’t make the slightest difference, Mr. Eckert. After all, my uncle never saw me so why should he have left me any of his money? You say such disagreeable things!”
“I’m a disagreeable old man,” Caleb admitted cheerfully, “but my bark is worse than my bite.”
“Well, please don’t call my uncle names,” Rosanna went on with spirit.