"Uncle thinks I'm a goose to have such silly notions," pondered Dorry, taking very long steps so as to keep up with her companions, who, by the way, were taking very short steps to keep pace with Dorry. "But I can't help my feelings. It really is true. I hate to stand on high places, like roofs and precipices." Finally, she spoke:
"Uncle George, didn't you ever hear of other persons having that feeling?"
"What feeling, Dorothy?"
How sternly Mr. Reed said it! Surely he could not blame the poor girl for asking so natural a question as that? No. But the incident had saddened him strangely, and he was unconscious of the severity of his tone, until Dorothy's hesitating manner changed the current of his thoughts.
"Why—why, the—" she began, adding: "Oh, it doesn't matter, Uncle. I suppose I am foolish to ask such questions. But Don is ever so much steadier-headed than I am—aren't you, Don? I do believe he'd like to stand on the top of that telegraph-pole, if he could get there."
"There's no 'if' about that," said Donald, jokingly. "It's a mere question of time. Provided a fellow can climb a pole at all, a little more height makes no difference. Why, if I hadn't on my crack suit, I'd ask you and Uncle to wait and let me have a try at it."
"Oho!" laughed Dorry: "'crack' suit is slang; so is 'have a try'. Five cents apiece. That's ten cents fine for you, sir! Well, we ought to be thankful he hasn't on his old clothes, Uncle! Ahem! The 'crack' would be in the head then, instead of the suit, I'm afraid."
"Poor joke!" retorted Don; "ten cents fine for you, young lady."
Thus the party walked on, the light-hearted D's bantering each other with many laughing sallies, feeling confident that their uncle enjoyed it exceedingly.
And so he did; yet all the while he was thinking: