William came in, clearing his throat. "Don’t let me disturb you," he said, as they got up. "I don’t belong to the plot at all." He began to look about. "I left my pipe somewhere." "I don’t think it’s here, Uncle William," said Howard. "You surely wouldn’t leave it here; and, besides, I don’t hear it." There came a sort of explosion, and upon it was borne the words, "What’s that? You don’t hear it? You don’t? Now what have I ever done to you to deserve such an insult? Ha! What have I done?" "Why, nothing at all, Uncle William." "Then why do you want to insult me? Haven’t I been your slave ever since I came here? Haven’t I passed sleepless nights devising things for your good? You can’t deny it, and yet, at the first opportunity, you turn upon me with an insult." "Why, Uncle Billy," said Florence, "he wouldn’t insult you. He was only joking." Howard assured him that he meant no insult, whereupon the old man said: "All right, but I know a joke as well as anybody. I have joked with some of the best of ’em in my time, I’ll tell you that. But it’s no joke when you come talking about not hearing a man’s pipe. It’s a reflection on his cleanliness—it means that his pipe is stronger than a gentleman’s pipe ought to be. But I want to tell you, sir, that it isn’t. It’s as sweet as a pie." Howard said that he knew the import of such an accusation. "But," he added, "I was in hopes that it was strong, not to cast any reflection, you understand, but to show my appreciation of what you have done for me. I was going to give you that meerschaum of mine." The old man’s under jaw dropped. "Hah? Well, now, I do believe that it has got to be just a little nippy; just a little, you understand." "I wish it were stronger than that, Uncle Billy." "You do? Howard, you have always been a good friend to me; our relations have been most cordial and confidential, and I don’t mind telling you—to go no further, mind you—that my old pipe is as strong as—as a red fox. Yes, sir, it’s a positive fact. Er—where is your pipe?" "In my room. You may go and get it as soon as you like." "All right, and I’m a thousand times obliged to you. Florence, did that preacher go away so suddenly last night because I settled the fact that it was on the tenth?" "Oh, no, he left because he had an engagement." "Well," drawled the old man, "I don’t know about that. Why, confound him, I’ve got a right to settle it as my memory dictates. Does he think that I’m going to warp my recollection just for him?" "What was it all about, Uncle Billy?" Howard asked. "About a story I was going to tell." "Did you tell it?" "Did I tell it! Well, after a fashion; after they had badgered me. Then I made a mess of it. How do you expect me to tell a story when—look here, ain’t you trying to put it on me? Hah, ain’t you?" "I don’t know what you mean, Uncle William." "Oh, you don’t. The whole kit of you are devilish dull all at once."