I made no comment. I was not interested in pretty daughters, just then. The memory of the girl in the auto was too fresh in my mind. “Did you go to the post-office, Roscoe?” asked Mother. “I suppose there were no letters. There seldom are.” Then I remembered the letter in my pocket. I had forgotten it altogether. “Why, yes, there was a letter, a letter for me. I haven't read it yet.” I took the envelope from my pocket and drew out the enclosure. The latter was a note, very brief and very much to the point. I read it. “Well, by George!” I exclaimed, angrily. “What is it, Roscoe?” “It appears to be a summons from what Captain Jed called the King of New York. A summons to appear at court.” “At court?” “Oh, not the criminal court. Merely the palace of his Majesty. Just listen.” This was the letter: Roscoe Paine, Esq. Dear Sir: I should like to see you at my house this--Thursday--forenoon, on a matter of business. I shall expect you at any time after ten in the morning. Yours truly, JAMES W. COLTON. “From Mr. Colton!” exclaimed Mother. “Why! what can he want of you?” “I don't know,” I answered. “And I don't particularly care.” “Roscoe!” “Mother, did you ever hear such a cool, nervy proposition in your life? He wants to see me and he orders me to come to him. Why doesn't he come to me?” “I suppose he didn't think of it. He is a big man in New York and he has been accustomed to having people come at his convenience. It's his way of doing things, I suppose.” “Then I don't like the way. This is Denboro, not New York. He will expect me at any time after ten, will he? Well, as Mullet said to Alvin Baker just now at the post-office, I hope he has lots of patience. He'll need it.” “But what can he want of you?” “I don't know. Wants to look over his nearest jay neighbor, I should imagine, and see what sort of a curio he is. He thinks it may be necessary to put up barbed wire fences, I suppose.” “Roscoe, don't be narrow-minded. Mr. Colton's ways aren't ours and we must make allowances.” “Let him make a few, for a change.” “Aren't you going to see him?” “No. At least not until I get good and ready.” Dorinda came in just then to ask Mother some questions concerning dinner, for, though Mother had not seen the dining room since that day, six years ago, when she was carried from it to her bedroom, she kept her interest in household affairs and insisted on being consulted on all questions of management and internal economy. I rose from my chair and started toward the door. “Are you going, Roscoe?” asked Mother. “Yes.” “Where?” “Oh, just out of doors; perhaps to the boat-house.” “Boy.” “Yes, Mother?” “What is the matter? Something has gone wrong; I knew it as soon as you came in. What is it?” “Nothing. That is, nothing of any consequence. I'm a little out of sorts to-day and that man's letter irritates me. I'll get over it. I'll be back soon. Good-by, Mother.” “Good-by, Boy.”