"Sure," he replied. "Of course I got a father, silly."
"Well, where is he?"
They looked at each other, their arms folded behind them, their toes digging the gravel.
"At sea," said Beppo, and Mac slapped his knee.
"Eh?" I said, blankly, for I had not caught the phrase.
"We are a lot of duffers!" muttered Mac. "The man is a sailor and he's at sea."
"Oh!" I said, and for a moment I felt downcast at the tame ending of our investigation. "When is he coming home, Beppo?"
"I dunno," he answered, indifferently. "What do you want to know for?"
Here was a quandary. I was caught fairly and squarely prying into another person's business. I don't know why, but these two little chaps, with their clean-cut unembarrassed features, their relentless stare and their matter-of-fact outlook upon life, seemed to have in a supreme degree the faculty of inspiring and snubbing curiosity. I think the others, since I had borne the brunt of the ordeal, sympathized with me, for they were silent. I stared at our visitors in some perplexity; and then in the most exasperating manner they turned away and ran across our ground to a huge hollow stump near the forest path and began to play.
"Pretty tough, eh?" murmured Mac, rocking himself. I began to wonder whether I ought to have been more indignant about that reflection upon my height. Bill looked up and twisted round so that she could see what they were doing.