But Aunt Budge's dissertation was cut short by a choking scene, in which Rick pounded his brother with such force on the back that it was a wonder they heard the front door open at all.
"There's Uncle Budge," said Rick, hurriedly. "Don't tell him anything you've noticed in the Argus, Aunt Budge, or he'll suspect."
"Suspect!" echoed Aunt Budge, her mind still on the Wilkinses. "Suspect!"
"Sh—sh!" implored Karl. "It's a fool, Aunt Budge. Help us to carry it out. Last year's paper—don't you see?"
"Well, well, I declare!" said Aunt Budge, as the real state of the case flashed over her. "Then," collecting her thoughts, "I was right about its being Amanda, and—" But Aunt Budge interrupted herself by laughing so heartily that the boys found themselves compelled to join her, though it appeared from the conversation, when Uncle Budge came to breakfast, that Aunt Budge had been recounting some of the boys' pranks of years before.
"How old was I then?" asked Karl. "I mustn't forget to ask mamma, when I get home, if she remembers it."
Uncle Budge seated himself, and asked for the paper. He squinted at the date as Karl held it toward him, and then said: "I believe I'd rather have a little younger paper than that. This comes within one of it, boys, but I guess I'll take the one on the eighty."
"Well, now!" exclaimed Aunt Budge, admiringly. "And he never so much as took it in his hand."
"We can't fool Uncle Budge," said Karl, uttering each word slowly. "That may as well pass into a proverb. It can not be done."
"I'm not so sure. We're not through trying yet, you know," put in Rick, with a peculiar look at his brother.