“Bears,” insisted Bobby.
“Well, once upon a time there were three bears—a big bear and a middle-sized bear and a little bear—” began Orde obediently.
Bobby, with a sigh of rapture and content, curled up in a snug, warm little ball. The twilight darkened.
“Blind-man's holiday!” warned Carroll behind them so suddenly that they both jumped. “And the sand man's been at somebody, I know!”
She bore him away to bed. Orde sat smoking in the darkness, staring straight ahead of him into the future. He believed he had found the opportunity—twenty years distant—for which he had been looking so long.
XXX
After a time Carroll descended the stairs, chuckling. “Jack,” she called into the sitting-room, “come out on the porch. What do you suppose the young man did to-night?”
“Give it up,” replied Orde promptly. “No good guessing when it's a question of that youngster's performances. What was it?”
“He said his 'Now I lay me,' and asked blessings on you and me, and the grandpas and grandmas, and Auntie Kate, as usual. Then he stopped. 'What else?' I reminded him. 'And,' he finished with a rush, 'make-Bobby-a-good-boy-and-give-him-plenty-of-bread-'n-butter-'n apple-sauce!'”