You may have heard your uncle
say something about it being kind o' careless, leaving the house so
much alone? Anyhow, whether he's talked to you or not about it, he
has to me often enough."
"Oh, yes!" Caroline was conscious of a distinct sense of relief.
"I've often heard him. Then you _do_ know Uncle Joe?"
The man faced her, starting in violent surprise.
"Do I know Uncle Joe?" he repeated; "do I _know_ him?" He shook his
head feebly and gazed about the room. "She says, do I know Joe Holt!
And what should I be doing, eating my lunch here, if I didn't?" he
demanded. "What should he tell me about his troubles for, and ask me
to help him, if I didn't know him? Is it likely I'd be packing his
silver in my suit-case if I didn't know him?"
Caroline stood abashed.
"I should think you might guess by this time what the joke is," he
went on forgivingly, seeing that she was quite overcome with her own
stupidity, "but as I have to get away pretty quick now, I'll tell
you. You see, Joe isn't coming right back with your aunt; he's going
on to Chicago, and that may keep him some time away--"
("I know," Caroline interpolated), "and he wanted your aunt to have
somebody stay in the house to look after it--he felt worried.
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