“Commodore,” he said, “I’ve got the answer.”
“To the note? Already, sir? I didn’t know you’d seen it.”
“I ain’t. I’ve got the answer to the conundrum. It’s Mother!”
“Mother, sir? I—I don’t know what you mean.”
“I do. The answer’s Mother. Sonny don’t count, though he may think he does. But Mother’s the whole team and the dog under the wagon. And, Commodore, we’ve got to trot some if we want to keep ahead of that team! Don’t you forget it!”
He went to his room, leaving the bewildered butler to retire to the kitchen, where he informed the cook that the old man was off his head worse than common to-night.
“Blessed if he don’t think he’s a trotting horse!” said Edwards.