Rupert came to life. For all his pose of unconcern, he was excited. In
the long days Val had been tied to the cot hurriedly set up in a corner
of the drawing-room on the night of the rescue--it had been thought
wiser to move him no farther than necessary--he had found again the real
Rupert they had known of old. There was little he could conceal from his
younger brother now--or so Val thought.
"Sam has the roadster," Rupert said. "There's something wrong with the
brakes and I told him to take it to town and have it looked over.
Goodness only knows what time he'll be back."
"See here, Ralestone," Holmes looked at his wrist-watch, "I've the car I
hired here with me. Let me drive you in. Charity has to go, anyway, and
see about sending off those sketches of hers."
"Oh, but we were going together," protested Ricky. "I have some shopping
to do."
"Very simple," Val suggested. "Why don't you all go?"
"But that would leave you alone." Rupert shook his head.
"No. There's Jeems."
"I don't know," Rupert hesitated doubtfully.
"It doesn't require more than one person to wait on me at present," Val
said firmly. "Now all of you go. But remember, I shall expect the Greeks
to return bearing gifts."
Holmes saluted. "Right you are, my hearty. Well, ladies, the chariot
awaits without."
In spite of their protests, Val at last got rid of them. Since he had a
project of his own, he was only too glad to see the last of his
oversolicitous family for awhile.
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