an't help
believing it. He has explained that he has the secret of the outside
entrance only, and not the one opening from the inside. In the meantime
he is in bed--guarded from intrusion by Ricky and Lucy with the same
care as if he were the crown jewels. So matters rest at present."

"Neatly put." She dropped down on the couch. "By the way, do you realize
that you have ruined your face for my uses?"

Val fingered the crisscrossing tape on his cheek. "This is only
temporary."

"I certainly hope so. That must have been some battle."

"One of our better efforts." He coughed in mock modesty. "Ricky saved
the day with alarms and excursions without. Rupert probably told you
that."

"Yes, he can be persuaded to talk at times. Is he always so silent?"

"Nowadays, yes," he answered slowly. "But when we were younger--You
know," Val turned toward her suddenly, his brown face serious to a
degree, "it isn't fair to separate the members of a family. To put one
here and one there and the third somewhere else. I was twelve when
Father died, and Ricky was eleven. They sent her off to Great-aunt
Rogers because Uncle Fleming, who took me, didn't care for a girl--"

"And Rupert?"

"Rupert--well, he was grown, he could arrange his own life; so he just
went away. We got a letter now and then, or a post-card. There was money
enough to send us to expensive schools and dress us well. It was two
years before I really saw Ricky again. You can't call short visits on
Sunday afternoons seeing anyone.

"Then Uncle Fleming died and I was simply parked at Great-aunt
Rogers'. She"--Val was remembering things, a bitter look about
his mouth--"didn't care for boys. In September I was sent to a military
academy. I needed discipline, it seemed. And Ricky was sent to Miss
Somebody's-on-the-Hudson. Rupert was in China then. I got a letter from
him that fall. He was about to join some expedition heading into the
Gobi.

"Ricky came down to the Christmas hop at the academy, then Aunt Rogers
took her abroad. She went to school in Switzerland a year. I passed from
school to summer camp and then back to school. Ricky sent me some
carvings for Christmas--they arrived three days late."

He stared up at the stone mantel. "Kids feel things a lot more than
they're given credit for. Ricky sent me a letter with some tear stains
between the lines when Aunt Rogers decided to stay another year. And
that was the year I earned the reputation of being a 'hard cas