“Blessed if I know,” answered Roy. “According to his story he has been a little of everything at some time or other. And what do you suppose he wanted to know so much about the country around here for?” “Probably wanted to find out whether it was worth while going there to sell Billings’ ‘Wonders of the Deep,’” answered Dick. “I don’t believe he’s a book agent at all!” exclaimed Roy. “What? Then what is he?” asked Dick. But Roy only shook his head. “I don’t know. But I don’t believe he’s what he says he is.” “Why, he sold some books to papa!” cried Harry. “Have you seen them?” Chub asked. “No, they haven’t come yet. He doesn’t carry them with him. He just takes orders, you know, and the publishers send the books to you by express.” “How much do you have to pay down?” asked Roy eagerly. “Not a cent,” answered Harry. “So, Mister Smarty!” “Huh!” muttered Chub. “That just shows how foxy he is.” “I think you’re perfectly horrid, Chub Eaton,” said Harry. “Mr. Noon is just as nice as he can be, and very--very gentlemanly!” “That’s so,” allowed Chub. “He seems a mighty decent sort, but--but just the same I don’t believe he’s a book agent. There’s a mystery about him.” Harry’s eyes brightened. “Oh, do you think so?” she asked eagerly. “Perhaps he’s a lord or something traveling in--in--” “Incognito,” aided Roy. “Yes,” cried Harry. “Haven’t you noticed that he talks sort of--sort of foreign sometimes?” “Can’t say I have,” Roy laughed. “Although now and then there’s just a suggestion of brogue about his talk.” “The idea!” Harry said indignantly. “He’s not Irish a bit! I think he’s either English or--or Scotch.” “Probably Lord Kilmarnock looking for a wealthy bride,” said Chub. “I’ll ask him to-morrow if he has his kilts with him.” “And his bagpipe,” Dick added. “Come now, it’s a shame to spoil Harry’s romance,” Roy remonstrated. “We’ll call him His Lordship until we learn what he really is.” “He’s already been the ‘Licensed Poet,’ ‘W. N.,’ ‘Seth Billings,’ and ‘Mr. William Noon,’” said Chub. “So I guess another name or two won’t matter. There’s just one thing I wouldn’t think of calling him, though.” “What’s that?” asked Roy. “Book agent,” Chub answered dryly. CHAPTER XIII BILLY ENTERTAINS