"
Mr. Letts, in some difficulty as to the etiquette on such occasions,
released his right arm and extended his hand.
"Good-evening, stepfather," he said, cheerfully.
Mr. Green drew back a little and regarded him unfavorably.
"We--we thought you was drowned," he said at last.
"I was nearly," said Mr. Letts.
"We all thought so," pursued Mr. Green, grudgingly. "Everybody thought
so."
He stood aside, as a short, hot-faced man, with a small bureau clasped in
his arms and supported on his knees, emerged from the house and staggered
towards the gate. Mr. Letts reflected.
"Halloa!" he said, suddenly. "Why, are you moving, mother?"
Mrs. Green sniffed sadly and shook her head. "Well," said Mr. Letts,
with an admirable stare, "what's that chap doing with my furniture?"
"Eh?" spluttered Mr. Green. "What?"
"I say, what's he doing with my furniture?" repeated Mr. Letts, sternly.
Mr. Green waved his arm. "That's all right," he said, conclusively;
"he's bought it. Your mother knows."
"But it ain't all right," said Mr. Letts. "Here! bring that back, and
those chairs too."
The dealer, who had just placed the bureau on the tail-board of the van,
came back wiping his brow with his sleeve.
"Wots the little game?" he demanded.
Mr. Letts left the answer to Mr. Green, and going to the van took up the
bureau and walked back to the house with it.
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