"Jis' take yore folks right on up, Mr. Kamp," said Uncle Billy,
pouncing on the money. "Th' rooms is th' three right along th' hull
front o' th' house. I'll be up and make on a fire in a minute. Jis'
take th' _Jonesville Banner_ an' th' _Uticky Clarion_ along with ye."
As the swish of skirts marked the passage of the Van Kamps up the wide
hall stairway, the other party swept into the room.
The man wrote, in a round flourish, "Edward Eastman Ellsworth, wife,
and son."
"I'd like three choice rooms, en suite," he said.
"Gosh!" said Uncle Billy, regretfully. "That's what Mr. Kamp wanted,
fust off, an' he got it. They hain't but th' little room over th'
kitchen left. I'll have to put you an' your wife in that, an' let your
boy sleep with th' driver."
The consternation in the Ellsworth party was past calculating by any
known standards of measurement. The thing was an outrage! It was not
to be borne! They would not submit to it!
Uncle Billy, however, secure in his mastery of the situation, calmly
quartered them as he had said. "An' let 'em splutter all they want
to," he commented comfortably to himself.
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