“Very likely,” said Alonzo, who at last had received an answer with which he was pleased.
“Well, ma, there isn't any more to find out here,” he said.
“Tell the driver—home!” said his mother.
When they reached the house in Twelfth Street, there was a surprise in store for them.
“Who do you think's up-stairs, mum?” said Hannah, looking important.
“Who? Tell me quick!”
“It's your Uncle Oliver, mum, just got home from Florida; but I guess he's going somewhere else mum, for he's packing up his things.”
“Alonzo, we will go up and see him,” said Mrs. Pitkin, excited. “I must know what all this means.”