“Come, Paul,” said the Colonel’s lady severely. “It’s not customary to rush in upon people like that.” The boy flushed to his hair roots.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Augusta. Awfully sorry, Uncle Colonel. But did you see them go, sir?”
“Yes, they went up toward Pine Croft Ranch. But you ought to be able to track them easily, for the rain has softened the trail.”
“Oh, splendid! I’ll do it. I’ll just get Joseph and find them.”
“By the way, what were you playing last, Paul?” asked the Colonel. The boy flushed.
“Oh, just some nonsense, Uncle Colonel. I was through with my lesson,” he said apologetically, “and I was just fooling a bit—like Daddy used to do sometimes—” he paused, “for Mother and me, you know.” He stood quietly, looking out the door, his eyes on the far mountains.
“All right, boy. Off you go,” said the Colonel.
“Lunch at one, Paul, remember,” said Mrs. Pelham.
“I’ll try, Aunt Augusta. But it’s awfully hard to remember sometimes.”
“I want Peg at one,” said Mrs. Pelham firmly. “We have something on after lunch. I depend upon you, Paul.”