Miss Billy | Page 9

"But you see, I supposed I'd have time to--to get used to things, and to make arrangements; and this is so--so sudden! I hadn't even answered Harding's letter until to-day; and he hasn't got that--much less replied to it."
"But what could you expect after sending that idiotic telegram?" demanded the lady. "'Come,' indeed!"
"But that's what Billy told me to do."
"What if it was? Just because a foolish eighteen-year-old boy tells you to do something, must you, a supposedly sensible forty- year-old man obey?"
"I think it tickled Will's romantic streak," laughed Bertram. "It seemed so sort of alluring to send that one word 'Come' out into space, and watch what happened."
"Well, he's found out, certainly," observed Cyril, with grim satisfaction.
"Oh, no; it hasn't happened yet," corrected Bertram, cheerfully. "It's just going to happen. William's got to put on the pink first, you know. That's the talisman."
William reddened.
"Bertram, don't be foolish. I sha'n't wear any pink. You must know that."
"How'll you find him, then?"
"Why, he'll have one on; that's enough," settled William.
"Hm-m; maybe. Then he'll have Spunk, too," murmured Bertram, mischievously.
"Spunk!" cried Kate.
"Yes. He wrote that he hoped we wouldn't mind his bringing Spunk with him."
"Who's Spunk?
"We don't know." Bertram's lips twitched.
"You don't know! What do you mean?"
"Well, Will thinks it's a dog, and I believe Cyril is anticipating a monkey. I myself am backing it for a parrot."
"Boys, what have you done!" groaned Kate, falling back in her chair. "What have you done!"
To William her words were like an electric shock stirring him to instant action. He sprang abruptly to his feet.
"Well, whatever we've done, we've done it," he declared sternly; "and now we must do the rest--and do it well, too. He's the son of my boyhood's dearest friend, and he shall be made welcome. Now to business! Bertram, you said you'd take him in. Did you mean it?"
Bertram sobered instantly, and came erect in his chair. William did not often speak like this; but when he did--
"Yes, Will. He shall have the little bedroom at the end of the hall. I never used the room much, anyhow, and what few duds I have there shall be cleared out to-morrow."
"Good! Now there are some other little details to arrange, then I'll go down-stairs and tell Pete and Dong Ling. And, please to understand, we're going to make this lad welcome--welcome, I say!"
"Yes, sir," said Bertram. Neither Kate nor Cyril spoke.

CHAPTER V
GETTING READY FOR BILLY
The Henshaw household was early astir on the day of Billy's expected arrival, and preparations for the guest's comfort were well under way before breakfast. The center of activity was in the little room at the end of the hall on the second floor; though, as Bertram said, the whole Strata felt the "upheaval."
By breakfast time Bertram with the avowed intention of giving "the little chap half a show," had the room cleared for action; and after that the whole house was called upon for contributions toward the room's adornment. And most generously did most of the house respond. Even Dong Ling slippered up-stairs and presented a weird Chinese banner which he said he was "velly much glad" to give. As to Pete--Pete was in his element. Pete loved boys. Had he not served them nearly all his life? Incidentally it may be mentioned that he did not care for girls.
Only Cyril held himself aloof. But that he was not oblivious of the proceedings below him was evidenced by the somber bass that floated down from his piano strings. Cyril always played according to the mood that was on him; and when Bertram heard this morning the rhythmic beats of mournfulness, he chuckled and said to William:
"That's Chopin's Funeral March. Evidently Cy thinks this is the death knell to all his hopes of future peace and happiness."
"Dear me! I wish Cyril would take some interest," grieved William.
"Oh, he takes interest all right," laughed Bertram, meaningly. "He takes INTEREST!"
"I know, but--Bertram," broke off the elder man, anxiously, from his perch on the stepladder, "would you put the rifle over this window, or the fishing-rod?"
"Why, I don't think it makes much difference, so long as they're somewhere," answered Bertram. "And there are these Indian clubs and the swords to be disposed of, you know."
"Yes; and it's going to look fine; don't you think?" exulted William. "And you know for the wall-space between the windows I'm going to bring down that case of mine, of spiders."
Bertram raised his hands in mock surprise.
"Here--down here! You're going to trust any of those precious treasures of yours down here!"
William frowned.
"Nonsense, Bertram, don't be silly! They'll be safe enough. Besides, they're old, anyhow. I was on spiders years ago--when I was Billy's age, in fact. I thought he'd like them here. You know boys always like such things."
"Oh, 'twasn't Billy I was worrying about,"