Arriving at the house the Great Man tossed his bag and coat in the hall and drew a hickory rocker to a shady spot on the lawn. Asking permission to smoke a cigar—his one bad habit, he claimed—he braced his feet against a tree, leaned back in his chair and began to gossip comfortably with Judith, who sat beside him, of their childhood days and all the queer things that had happened to them both since. When Phoebe wanted to run away and leave the cousins together they made her stay; so she got a bit of embroidery and sat on the grass sewing and listening.
The children came home from school, awkwardly greeted the Great Man, in whom they were distinctly disappointed because he did not look the part, and then rushed away to follow their own devices. By and by Cousin John glanced through the trees and was astonished to observe in the distance an army of boys and girls engaged in drilling, their white caps and sashes and their badges giving them an impressive appearance.
“What’s all that?” asked the Governor curiously.
“That,” replied Judith with a laugh, “is the Toby Clark Marching Club.”
“Toby Clark—Toby Clark,” he said musingly. “A local celebrity, Judith?”
“Yes; a lame boy who has been arrested for stealing. These children resent the unjust accusation and have organized the Marching Club to express their indignation and their unfaltering loyalty to their friend.”
“Good!” he cried; and then, after a moment, he added: “Unjust accusation, Judy?”
“Absolutely unjust,” she replied.
He took down his feet and sat up straight in his chair.
“Tell me about it,” he said.