"I--I think, if you
don't mind, I'll play hooky this time and run over to Atlantic City
for a couple of days. You'll find things slowing up, now that the
holidays are so near."
"Fine idea--fine!" agreed Emma McChesney; but her eyes still wore the
troubled look.
"Good-by," said T. A. Buck abruptly.
"Good--" and then she stopped. "I've a brand-new idea. Give you
something to worry about on your vacation."
"I'm supplied," answered T. A. Buck grimly.
"Nonsense! A real worry. A business worry. A surprise."
Jock had joined them, and was towering over his mother, her hand in
his.
T. A. Buck regarded them moodily. "After your pajama and knickerbocker
stunt I'm braced for anything."
"Nothing theatrical this time," she assured him. "Don't expect a show
such as you got when I touched off the last fuse."
An eager, expectant look was replacing the gloom that bad clouded his
face. "Spring it."
Emma McChesney waited a moment; then, "I think the time has come to
put in another line--a staple.
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