“Didn't Uncle Jethro tell you about it?”
“He never tells me anything about his affairs,” she answered.
Bob's astonishment did not wear off at once. Here was a new phase, and he was very hard put. He had heard, casually, a good deal of abuse of Jethro and his methods in the last two days.
“Well,” he said, “I don't know anything about politics. I don't know myself why father and Mr. Duncan were so eager for this post-mastership. But they were. And I heard them say something about the President going back on them when they had telegraphed from Chicago and come to see him here. And maybe they didn't let Heth in for it. It seems Uncle Jethro only had to walk up to the White House. They ought to have sense enough to know that he runs the state. But what's the use of wasting time over this business?” said Bob. “I told you I was going to Brampton before the term begins just to see you, didn't I?”
“Yes, but I didn't believe you,” said Cynthia.
“Why not?” he demanded.
“Because it's my nature, I suppose,” she replied.
This was too much for Bob, exasperated though he was, and he burst into laughter.
“You're the queerest girl I've ever known,” he said.
Not a very original remark.