“Don’t overwork that ‘couldn’t help it’ idea, boy,” he laughed. “I’ve thought of something good.”
“A joke on me?” asked Willie, suspiciously.
“No; I’ll let you grow some before I play any more. I won’t tell you what it is.”
“And much I care,” sniffed Willie.
The street rose higher and higher. It was a neighborhood of attractive residences, many of which stood on elevations, with roads winding their way toward them through greenswards dotted with rich evergreens or flowering shrubs. Here and there, the two caught glimpses of a stretch of water, its broad surface faintly reflecting the varied hues of purple and golden clouds which lazily floated above. Commencement Bay is one of the arms of Puget Sound, the city of Tacoma being situated at its head. They could see, too, Mount Tacoma, sixty miles distant, looming majestically against the sky.
The boys soon turned into a broad path leading toward a handsome dwelling. The white columns of its broad portico were entwined with clinging vines, while potted plants stood about, their flowers adding pleasant touches of color to the surroundings.
“Dad didn’t make any mistake when he bought this place, eh, Willie?” asked Cranny.
And Willie’s face relaxed sufficiently to grin a faint acknowledgment.
CHAPTER III
CRANNY’S PLAN
“Well, what are you going to do about it, dad?” remarked Cranny, two days later.