“Very well said, Brent!” I applauded.
Tom turned the lamp down and Brent and I started up the stairs and disappeared within the darkness of our respective rooms.
“Oh, Brent!” Tom called, as he came running up the stairs. “Do you think Charlie really saw anyone just now?”
“It might have been the hermit!” Brent answered tauntingly, “or his ghost!”
“Gosh,” I heard Tom say, as he passed my door, “if your theories aren’t enough to make a fellow’s head whirl!”
“Good-night, Tommy!” Brent said, in his most soothing manner.
“Good-night!”
CHAPTER XXXII—THE LETTER COMES BACK
Tom left for Harkness shortly after breakfast next morning. He didn’t expect to be gone long, so Brent and I set about straightening up the Lodge. With our activities and worries of the past few days a good deal of necessary housekeeping had been neglected.
I had just swept the dust out of the front door and turning around noticed Brent dusting up after me. It was hard to conceal my amusement when I beheld his long, lanky form bending down and his hands awkwardly flipping a dust cloth here and there.