"Ah!" says Uncle Jeff. "Our young friend who's at the bottom of the
whole of this. Here, Sir! I'm going to teach you a lesson that will
make you cautious about gossiping with strange old men. Pick up that
leopard skin at your feet."

"Yes, Sir," says I, holdin' it out to him.

"No, examine it carefully," says he. "That came from a beast I shot on
the shores of Lake Tanganyika. It's the finest specimen of the kind in
my whole collection. Throw it over your arm, you young scamp, and get
along with you!"

And they're all grinnin' amiable as I backs out with my mouth open.

"What the deuce!" says Mr. Robert after lunch next day, as he gazes
first at a big package a special messenger has just left, and then at a
note which comes with it. "'The Palisades at Dusk'--five hundred
dollars?"

"Gee!" I gasps. "Did he sting you that hard?"

"But it's receipted," says he, "with the compliments of Brooks Bladen.
What does that mean?"

"Means I'm some buyer, I guess," says I. "Souvenir of a little fam'ly
reunion I started, that's all. But you ain't the only one. Wait till
you see what I drew from Uncle Jeff."