The Idol had been for minutes standing and looking at Father like a
child that has just awakened and doesn't know whether the awful thing
that was pursuing him was a dream or a real bear. Roxanne was the
first one to speak, and as usual she had seen the rosy side of
something, even if it was not the real thing.
"You didn't really steal the secret at all, did you, Mr. Forsythe?"
she asked, with her lovely and engaging enthusiasm. "I just knew it,
all the time."
"Yes, I did 'steal the secret'--if that is the way you put it--_pro
tem_, which means 'for the time being.' You are a nest of very
young idiots, and I trusted to that; but you opened your puppy eyes at
the time I hadn't counted on, with the help of Luttrell's scouting
nose." He paused, as if not right sure that he was going to tell about
everything, and as he looked at us we did look like a basket of little
silly puppies with mouths and eyes wide open--the Idol most of all.
"And now first, young man," said Father, turning to Mr. Douglass, left
eyelid drooping lower than usual, "I just want to say to you what I
think of you for leaving not only all the traces of such a valuable
discovery unprotected in a shed, but leaving your notebook and
drawings, too.
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