"Guess I can talk now," he announced, taking his chair by the back and sliding it under him. "I was hurrying home, so's not to be late to supper, when I came up behind the Carlings. They—Letty ain't here, is she?" he added, looking about doubtfully.
"No," Mrs. Upjohn replied. "You know that Letty won't come again for more than a month."
"Huh!" growled John Junior. "She will if she feels like it. Never can tell when she'll be here. She's always here."
Mrs. Upjohn was a little slow about taking anything in. She had been puzzling over John's former speech and had just the full import of it.
"Did you say the Carlings, John?" she asked. "I don't see how that can be, for Harry's in Cambridge."
"He ain't either," John replied amiably. "Don't you s'pose I'd know those freaks? I guess I would."
"Well," said Mrs. Upjohn doubtfully.
"And they were talking together," John continued, "or trying to talk. They didn't know I was behind 'em, and I kept still as I could so's I could hear what they said. They ought to have an interpreter. But I got most of it, and then I slid out for fear they'd see me. What d'you s'pose they were talking about?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Mrs. Upjohn curiously.
"What?"