“I wonder if he can be up at Mr. Tyler’s?” thought Roy.
He returned to the dining room with his report.
“It is very odd,” remarked Mrs. Pell. “It is not like Sydney to go off in that way, but he will explain when he comes home to-night. He may have been obliged to go to town at seven on business for Mr. Tyler.”
“That’s so; what did the old gentleman want with Syd,” asked Jessie, turning to Roy. “You were so sleepy when you came home last night that you didn’t half satisfy our curiosity.”
“He wanted him to make his will,” answered Roy.
“And did he?” went on Jess.
“Yes. I say, mother, hadn’t I better go and stir up Rex? I’m afraid he’s gone off to sleep again.”
“There, he’s coming now. I hear his step on the stairs, so you just sit still and answer my questions. I’m not half through yet,” and Jess checked off on her fingers the two queries to which she had already had responses. “Now then, is he as rich as we all thought him?”
“Richer. Good afternoon to you, Rex. Better late than never. I’m going to keep you company, by taking a second cup of coffee. Mother, may I, please?”
“Royal Pell, what is the matter with you?” exclaimed Jess. “You haven’t been like the same fellow since you climbed up to that trestle yesterday afternoon. You seem to be trying to keep something back. Don’t you notice it, mother?”