“Roy!” murmured Harry distressedly. But Mr. Noon only smiled gently as he gazed over the empty plates.
“I may have been guilty,” he replied, “of slight exaggeration, but the gentleman was quite able to afford the books and the possession of them made him happier than he had been before. We should always keep in mind the Final Good.”
Roy looked perplexed but not convinced.
“Only this afternoon,” continued Mr. Noon, leaning comfortably back on one elbow, “I made a creditable sale and at the same time met a most agreeable gentleman. This afternoon was one of the bright spots in the life of a canvasser. I waited on a Doctor Emery who keeps the school over there, and—”
“Why, that’s my father!” cried Harry.
“Yes, so I learned,” replied Mr. Noon easily. “In fact, I introduced you, my dear young lady, as an entering wedge, so to speak. I mentioned that we were, in a manner, spending our vacations at the same resort—”
“But you’d never seen me!”
“Pardon me, but I had seen you several times. One morning I passed you on the river in my boat. Once or twice I have seen you here at this camp when I have been out looking for wood or communing with Nature.”
“Oh,” said Harry. “And did you sell papa a set of—of—”
“Billings, yes. He preferred the buckram binding. We had a very pleasant chat, besides. A most interesting gentleman, I found him.”