“For a long time Tommy was the smallest member of our crowd,” explained Dave Brandon; “then, suddenly——”
“Nothing could keep him down,” supplemented Bob, with a smile.
“And I don’t wonder, after the way you boys have been living out in the open,” said Jack. “But what’s the use of our standing here in the hallway when there are comfortable chairs in my den up-stairs?”
“And I do feel most uncommonly tired,” confessed Dave, stifling a yawn, “for, honestly, I didn’t sleep a minute more than twelve hours last night.”
Jack laughed heartily as he led the way into the drawing-room.
Mr. John Lyons, his father, a widely-known New York lawyer and promoter, resided in a fine mansion on Fifty-seventh Street. Externally, there was nothing about the house to distinguish it in any way from the rest of a long brown-stone row, but the interior was famed for the wealth and beauty of its appointments.
“Thought you might like to take a look in here, fellows,” remarked Jack. “Dad goes in a lot for painting and statuary. Some of these things he picked up while abroad. Everything free for this day only. Step around and see the animals.”
“It’s simply stunning!” cried Bob.
The furnishings were nearly all of the Louis XV period. A beam of sunlight coming in through a half-opened window caressed in its course original chairs and a couch which had once adorned an old French chateau. Rare tapestries hung on the walls, while carved chests and objects of copper and brass revealed their presence by rich, glowing touches of color.
Many pictures by old and modern masters immediately attracted Dave Brandon’s attention.