“He’s strictly sanitary,” Ted declared, pressing his own curly head down to Nero’s. “I’m glad I’ve got him, I needed a chum around home,” he finished, affectionately.
“How about me?” teased Nancy.
“Oh you!” Ted was caressing Nero, and Nero was thudding his tail in response.
“Yes, what about me, Ted? Don’t you like me any more?”
“Like you! But you ought to hear folks talk. They say you’ll be starting a—butcher shop next.”
Nancy drew her breath in sharply. Were they criticising her like that?
“Who’s talking about me?” she demanded of her brother.
“Don’t have to get mad,” drawled Ted. “What do we care? We know, I guess,” he placated, tactfully.
“But who’s talking?” she insisted.
“It’s all jealousy,” the boy evaded. “They’re disappointed because the Townsends and Mr. Sanders are getting along so well. First, they tried to make Mr. Sanders out foolish, and now they say this place is spooky. Guess I’ve been here long enough to know,” he retorted, as if answering the unknown foes.