Brooks he looks over at Edith. "Oh, Uncle Jeff!" says she, her eyes sparklin'. "I should just love it!"
"I could ask for nothing better," says Brooks.
"Then it's settled," says Uncle Jeff, reachin' out a hand to each of 'em. "Hurrah for the long trail! We're off!"
"Me too," says I, "if that's all."
"Ah!" says Uncle Jeff. "Our young friend who's at the bottom of the whole of this. Here, Sir! I'm going to teach you a lesson that will make you cautious about gossiping with strange old men. Pick up that leopard skin at your feet."
"Yes, Sir," says I, holdin' it out to him.
"No, examine it carefully," says he. "That came from a beast I shot on the shores of Lake Tanganyika. It's the finest specimen of the kind in my whole collection. Throw it over your arm, you young scamp, and get along with you!"
And they're all grinnin' amiable as I backs out with my mouth open.
"What the deuce!" says Mr. Robert after lunch next day, as he gazes first at a big package a special messenger has just left, and then at a note which comes with it. "'The Palisades at Dusk'—five hundred dollars?"
"Gee!" I gasps. "Did he sting you that hard?"