"Brownie" was Uncle George's name for the real May, and the mock May heard it with great pleasure, for it proved that there was no danger of discovery.
"I am going to visit Aunt Linn till mother is better," Gay answered.
"Where is Gay?"
"He was invited to Cedarville," said the unblushing young rogue. "What are you doing up here?"
"Business, Brownie."
"Did you expect to find it on the train, Uncle George?" said audacious Gay, "and is the first letter of its name M? Miss Maud is awfully sweet, isn't she?—and almost as pretty as mother."
"Thank you," said Uncle George, with great gravity. "By the way," he added, "you may need a little extra money while you are here," and he dropped some silver in Gay's outstretched palm, and jumped on the last car as the train moved out of the station, and nodded his farewell from the platform.
"Thanks, awfully," shouted Gay. If this was Uncle George's way of showing his appreciation of the compliment to Miss Berkeley, it was an exceedingly agreeable way, and one to be recommended to all uncles in love.
"Fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety cents!" counted Gay. "If I stay two weeks I can spend—let me see, twelve—for there'll be two Sundays when I can't spend anything—twelve in ninety goes seven times and a fraction. That's almost eight cents a day!"
Then he pulled up his skirt, but the pocket wasn't there!