Andy watched him, a little morosely, as he mounted a chair and reached for the map on its nail—“When you two going to get a girl!” he said.
Uncle William looked down at him with open mouth. “Now that’s an idea!” he said slowly.
Uncle William’s mouth closed firmly. “Nothin’—I didn’t mean nothin’, I guess. I was just a-thinking.” He chuckled softly. “We’ve got a girl,” he added kindly. “We heard from her yesterday.” He reached again to the map.
“Well—?” Uncle William climbed slowly from the chair with his map, “She can’t come—exactly—”
Andy stared at him. “Then you ain’t got her, Willum—”
“Oh, yes, we’ve got her—and she wants to come—worst way. She’s the one I told you about—down to New York?” He looked at Andy over his spec-tades. “She’s a nice girl,” he added. His face held a deep glow. “‘Bout the nicest girl you ever see, I reckon.”
“I don’t know her,” said Andy coldly. “Well, mebbe you forget—But I remember well enough telling you about her one day—down to your house—when Harr’et had gone fox-berrying—and you and me was there alone, and we was makin’—”
“Like enough I do remember,” said Andy hastily.
“That’s the one,” said Uncle William, “the one I kind o’ helped to get home from New York—and she ’d come—any day—if there was a place to sleep. Benjy’s in the other room and I’m in this one—and the’ ain’t any other—” His forehead wrinkled at the problem. “She’s got to come—and she’s got to hev a place,” he said with decision.
“She could sleep down to my house,” said Andy.
“Why, so she could—She could sleep down to his house, Benjy,” said Uncle William.
The tall man swung his glasses from his nose and looked at them—first one and then the other. Then a smile came into his face. “The Lord bless you, Andy,” he said, “I think I had come about to the end of my dish-washing powers—”
“All you’ve done, was wipe ’em, Benjy,” said Uncle William anxiously.
“I know, William—and it’s all right—and I liked it!”
“You ’d pay a little suthin’,” suggested Andy.
“Oh, anything reasonable,” responded the tall man. “Now let’s see the map.”
THEY bent over the table, following Uncle William’s finger. The room was filled with light smoke from Uncle William’s pipe and the cigarette that Bodet held in his fingers and whiffed from time to time. The dusk outside crept in and mingled with the smoke.
