Uncle William shook his head. “I do’ ’no ’s we ’d better wait.” He blew gently into his lantern and set it down. “Might as well have it whilst we can....I’ve come to think that’s the best way, mebbe. The’s two-three things I didn’t take when I could ’a’ got ’em—easy. They’ve been always tagging me around since.” He settled a little more comfortably in his chair and stretched his big legs. “Go ahead, Benjy,” he said. Bodet fixed his glasses on his nose and cleared his throat. Juno jumped on Uncle William’s knee, and his hand traveled thoughtfully up and down the grey back while the letter was being read. A pleased, puzzled look held his face—“Goin’ right to Russia, be they? I can’t seem to understand that, Benjy—What was it she said?” Bodet turned back and found the place. “We have decided to go straight to St. Petersburg and then to Vilna, taking a house and spending the winter. Captain Spaulding will take the boat around to Yokohama and we shall join him in the spring—going overland.” Uncle William’s face still held its puzzled look—“They won’t touch Iceland... nor Norway ’n’ Sweden?” He shook his head. “Jumped the whole thing—far as I see—Europe, Asia ’n’ Africa, and the Pacific Isles.... Now, what do you suppose they’re up to, doin’ that, Benjy?” He looked at him anxiously. Bodet folded the letter in his slim fingers and creased it a little. “Perhaps she was homesick—thought how good it would seem to have a home for a little while again.” “Mebbe she did...” Uncle William lighted the lantern, peering at it with shrewd, wrinkled eyes. “Don’t you set up for me, Benjy.” He looked at him kindly. “The ’ll be a moon, byme-by, you know—Like as not I’ll be putterin’ round quite a spell. You go to bed.” “Well—I’ll see.” Bodet had taken up the newspaper and was scanning the lines—his glasses perched high. Juno, on the floor beside him, looked up as if she would like to be invited. Uncle William looked at them both affectionately. Then he stepped out into the night, closing the door with gentle touch. The night was softly dark, with high stars, and a little breeze blew up from the water.... His lantern swung down the path—his great legs keeping shadowy time to it. Now and then he paused, listening to the little waves that splashed up below, and drawing deep, full breaths of the darkness. He looked up to the stars and his face cleared. The little puzzled look that had come into it with the reading of the letter disappeared. He hummed to himself, as he went, little booming songs that began, and broke off, and ended nowhere—traveling along ahead....