"I wonder where are his bundles," said the lady of the house, with some concern. "I provided him with two sugar-bags, and he was to bring bread and meat, and all sorts of oddments, and to come home slowly. Can anything be wrong?"
"He doesn't look as if there were," Tom said.
He did not. As he caught sight of the two who waited for him at the gate, he took off his hat and whirled it round his head with a mighty shout, digging his heels into Roany, who shot up the hill in response. They pulled up.
"What's your hurry, old son? And where are your bundles?"
"You don't know who's coming!" Garth cried, with dancing eyes.
"'Possum?"
"No! 'Possum can come any old day. This is a most awfully special visitor. Hurry up and guess!"
"The only person who would be that," said Tom slowly, "is old Metcalfe——"
Garth gave a little shout of joy.
"Good old Daddy! I knew you'd guess!"