Dad didn't say-- What did he do with it--the letter ?" "He opened it and read it." A smile of amused understanding of her finesse curled Art's lips.

"And he stuck it in the pocket of his chaps and went on to wherever he was going." His eyes challenged her impishly.
"And it was from Uncle Carl, you say ?" Art hesitated, and the smile left his lips.

"It--it was from Carl, yes.

Why ?" "Oh, I just wondered." Jean was wondering why he had stopped smiling, all at once, and why he hesitated.

Was he afraid he was going to contradict himself about the day or the errand?
Or was he afraid she would ask her Uncle Carl, and find that there was no letter?
"Why don't you ask your dad, if you are so anxious to know all about it ?" Art demanded abruptly.