in his cheery voice:

"Well, Mr. Jones, we meet again, you see."

The man turned slowly and faced him; then bowed in a mechanical way
and proceeded to the elevator, into which he disappeared.

Naturally Uncle John was indignant.

"Confound the fellow!" he exclaimed. "He's worse than a boor. But
perhaps his early education was neglected."

"Did you call him Mr. Jones, sir?" asked Myrtle in a voice that
trembled with excitement.

"Yes, my dear; but it is not your Uncle Anson. I've inquired about
him. The Joneses are pretty thick, wherever you go; but I hope not
many are like this fellow."

"Something's wrong with him," declared Patsy. "He's had some sad
bereavement--a great blow of some sort--and it has made him somber and
melancholy. He doesn't seem to know he acts rudely. You can tell by
the man's eyes that he is unhappy."

"His eyes have neither color nor expression," remarked Beth. "At his
best, this Mr. Jones must have been an undesirable acquaintance."

"You can't be sure of that," returned Patsy; "and I'm positive my
theory is correct. More and more am I inclined to agree with Myrtle
that he is disgusted with life, and longs to end it."