“Oh, of course! Sorry I interrupted.”
“You needn’t be, and you didn’t. Quit grinning like a simpleton and give me a hammer!”
“Right-o! Come on, Thomas! It’s quite all right now!”
An hour later their task was done, and well done, and they viewed it with approval. To be honest, the major part of the work had been performed by the faithful Thomas, although it is not to be denied that both Laurie and Bob toiled conscientiously. Before they were through approving the result from various angles, Bob’s father joined them. Mr. Starling was an older edition of Bob—a tall, straight, lean-visaged man of forty-two or -three, with the complexion of one who had lived an outdoor life. He had a deep, pleasant voice and a quiet manner not fully in accord with a pair of keen eyes and a firm mouth.
“I’d call that a good piece of work, boys,” he said, as he joined them. “And right up to specifications, too. Those paper lanterns come yet, Bob?”
“No, sir; I haven’t seen them.”
“Lanterns, Mr. Starling?” asked Laurie. “Do you mean Chinese lanterns? We’ve ordered a lot from the caterer, sir.”
“Tell him you won’t need them, then. I’ve got a hundred coming up from the city, Turner. They ought to be here, too. Thomas, call up the express company and ask about them.”
“That’s very kind, sir,” said Laurie, “but you needn’t have done it. You—you’re doing everything!”
“Nonsense! Bob and I want to do our part, of course. Well, this wilderness certainly looks different, doesn’t it? That reminds me, Bob; the agent writes me that we may ‘make such improvements to the property as we desire.’ So, as I consider the absence of that arbor an improvement, I guess you can pull it down any time you like. I’m going to have a cup of tea, Turner. Will you join me? I believe there will be cakes, too.”