“Well, I won’t for a while,” the Hermit said-and immediately received a kiss on the top of his head.
“Thank you, Norah,” he said meekly.
“Don’t mention it,” Norah answered politely. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re going to stay with us, Mr. Hermit!”
Norah had flatly declined to call her friend anything but the name she had given him in the bush. As for the Hermit, he was perfectly content with anything Norah did and had no idea of objecting.
“You heard, didn’t you, Norah, that they’d found your friend, the Winfield murderer?” Mr. Linton asked.
“Daddy!—no!”
“Found his body in an old shaft—not far from Winfield. He had the stolen property on him, so there’s no doubt of his guilt. So that clears your Hermit, even in your suspicious mind!”
“Ah, don’t, Daddy,” Norah said, flushing. “I wasn’t suspicious. I was a duffer.”
“I don’t think you were,” the Hermit said decidedly. “A very sensible duffer, anyhow.”
Dick laughed.