knowMr. Kentworthy remained silent. It was clear he did not accept the other man’s view of the story.
Suddenly the doctor pressed the electric bell on his table, twice, sharply: “I’m going to send for my niece,” he exclaimed.
Mr. Kentworthy started up.
“That’s not fair,” he cried. “That’s not playing the game!”
“Bide a wee, man. I’m not going to do anything unfair. I simply want you to see the child. I’ll give her a message for my wife.”
A moment later the door opened and Jean Bower ran in.
“Yes, Uncle Jock? What—” and then she stopped short. “I beg your pardon. I did not know you had any one here.”
“Mr. Kentworthy—my niece.”
The two shook hands, and as he looked keenly into her fresh guileless face and noted, as only a trained eye would have done, the dozen little details which go
