The stews were ready by this time. They were brought and set before Stephen and his uncle. The latter toyed with his spoon, only taking a taste or two, but Stephen showed much more appreciation of the dish, not being accustomed, like his uncle, to dining at first-class hotels.
"How am I to let you know what I find out?" asked Stephen.
"Write me at Milwaukee. I will send you further instructions from there."
"Very well, sir."
"Oh, by the way, you are never to mention me to this Luke Walton. I have my reasons."
"I will do just as you say."
"How is your mother, Stephen?"
"About the same. She isn't a very cheerful party, you know. She is always fretting."
"Has she any lodgers?"
"Yes, three, but one is a little irregular with his rent."