“Barker,” said Nelson instantly.
“You win.”
“Bub-Barker!” sneered Phil Springer. “What did he want?”
“Wanted to know what we’d heard about Grant. Said he naturally felt somewhat anxious.”
“You bate he felt that way!” exclaimed Crane scornfully. “What’d you tell him?”
“I told him all about it—told him what a lot of lobsters we were.”
“What made yeou do that?” cried Crane. “Why didn’t yeou tell him they’d had to put Grant in a strait-jacket, or somethin’ like that?”
“Didn’t think of it quick enough, Sile; but I told him the fellers were mighty disgusted because he sneaked out.”
“What’d he say to that?”
“Oh, he denied that he had sneaked. Said he’d had a standing invitation from Merwin, who had been urging him for a long time to come over, and that was why he went. All the same, I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was greatly relieved.”