ssal; "and now
I'll ask for your room."

"My room?" The scoutmaster did not appear to understand.

"Yes! Yes!"--loudly, and facing round. "I'm askin' y' not t' bother us
any more this mornin' with your ever-lastin' talk!"

"Oh. You wish me to go." Mr. Perkins took up his hat and gloves.

"My, but you're smart!" exclaimed Barber, sarcastically. "You can
understand plain English!--Yes, _dear_ Mister Perkins, I mean that I
don't want y' round." With that he continued on to the hall door, and
opened it. "This way out," he said flippantly. The brown teeth showed
again.

Mr. Perkins gave Johnnie a cheery smile. "Good-by, old chap," he said.
He went to the wheel chair and laid a gentle hand on Grandpa's shoulder.
"Good-by, Grandpa!"

"Good-by, General!" quavered the old man. "Good-by!" A shaking hand
lifted in a salute.

Mr. Perkins gave Barber a courteous nod as he passed him. "Good-by," he
said pleasantly.

"Good-by," returned Barber. "And good riddance!" He slammed the door.

Then something strange happened--something that had never happened
before. Without giving Johnnie a look, Barber lifted down the lamp,
lighted it, carried it into Cis's room, and closed the door.

Rooted to the floor, alert as any frightened mouse, Johnnie listened. He
could hear the longshoreman moving about, and the scrape of the
dressing-table box as it was lifted from its place, then shoved back.
What was Barber hunting? Fortunately the books were wound up in
Johnnie's bedding, a precaution taken by their owner in view of Barber's
spoken determination to return and take a look at Mr. Perkins. By any
chance did the longshoreman know about the Handbook? If he did, and if
he found it, what would happen then?

After what seemed a long time, Barber appeared. Except for the lamp, his
hands were empty. He blew into the top of the chimney and set the lamp
back in its place. "Tea," he ordered.

Startled, Johnnie fairly rose into the air. When he touched the floor
again, he was halfway to the stove. He set the table for one, mustering
the food which Big Tom was to have had in the lunch pail. Barber ate,
occasionally growling under his breath; or blew fiercely at the full
saucer from which he was drinking. His look roved the room as if he were
still searching. His meal finished, he found his hat, hung the cargo
hook about his neck, and slouched out.

Then for the first time Johnnie relaxed, and slumped into the morris
chair. He was not only w