“Nonsense!” said Carey. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, kid. That wasn’t anything to do.” But his tone showed that he was pleased at the general attitude of his family. Nevertheless, he slammed around noisily in the dining-room, pretending not to hear when his father read aloud the account of the accident in the paper, and went whistling upstairs immediately after. At the top he called down: “Say, I’m mighty glad they were fair to Brand in that ad. Brand’s a great fellow. I couldn’t have done a thing without him and his car. He knew just what to do without being told, and he can drive, I’ll say. Brand deserves all they can say of him. He’s a good fellow.” Altogether, the household slept joyously that night, and Harry dreamed of going to the mountains in an airship, and flying back tied to the tail of a kite. When Maxwell came to get Harry the next afternoon, he asked Cornelia one question that made her wonder a little. It seemed almost irrelevant. “Did your brother ever have anything to do with handling men?” he said looking thoughtfully at the neat masonry that was growing steadily longer and wider and higher. “Why—I—hardly know,” she replied, laughing. “I’ve been away so much from home.” “Captain of the basketball team in high school,” announced Harry shrewdly, “and captain of a local baseball team they had out the other side of the city last summer. Some team it was, too; licked everything in sight and then some. Carey had ’em all right where he wanted ’em; and when a team treated ’em mean once, Kay just called the fellows off, and they wouldn’t play one of ’em till he got a square deal with the ump!” Harry’s eyes sparkled. He made an earnest young advocate. “Fine! I must hear more about that. I foresee I’m going to have a thrilling trip. There’ll be lots to talk about. Well, Miss Copley, we’ll bid you good-bye and get on our way. I want to get on well this afternoon in case we have bad weather tomorrow. But it looks clear now. We’ll travel late tonight. There ought to be a wonderful moon. I wish you were going along.” He gave her a wistful glance, and she flushed with pleasure. “Thank you,” she said appreciatively. “If I were only a little boy with nothing to do!” “Sister!” protested Harry. “I’ve lots to do. I guess I work every day after school!” “You’re not a little boy, Harry; you’re almost a man,” answered his sister lovingly. “I wasn’t meaning you at all; I said, if _I_ were a little boy with nothing to do, then I could go along. I meant you could take care of me, see?” She gave a dear little smile at him, and he grinned. “Aw! Quit yer kiddin’. So-long, Cornie! Be back Monday. Take ker o’ yerself!” Maxwell’s eyes met hers; they laughed together at the boyishness of it, and Maxwell said good-bye, and departed. Cornelia, as she went into the house, wondered why the brief conversation had seemed to lighten the monotony of the day so much, and then fell to wondering why Maxwell had asked that question about Carey.