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On the sixteenth of June Mr. Rollin Billings entered his home at Westcote very much later than usual, and stealing upstairs, like a thief in the night, he undressed and dropped into bed. In two minutes he was asleep, and it was no wonder, for by that time it was five minutes after three in the morning, and Mr. Billings's usual bedtime was ten o'clock.
Flannery showed the message to Mr. Warold, and then took up his pen again. "President Interurban, Franklin," he wrote, "Consinor Westcote tag company, tags in it. o is in phenix and ph in sulfur and u in armordale. Westcote." The president sitting in his private office, received the message and wrinkled his brow as he read it. Telegraphing does not always improve the legibility of a message.
"Dobbins," he began, "I wish to thank you for what you have told me to-day. You have done a good deed by thus unburdening your mind. Will you be willing to swear to what you have just told me?" "Swear! Indeed I will. I'll swear on a dozen Bibles any time and anywhere." "That's good," Mr. Westcote replied, as he bade him good-day.
It was from Mr. Westcote, containing a request that she should go to the city the next day if she possibly could, as he wished to see her on important business. "Why didn't you send this with the boy?" Lois enquired, somewhat annoyed. "It would have saved my coming here." But Andy did not notice her annoyance, for something seemed to be troubling him.
"We shall need you before long, if I'm not much mistaken, so be ready." Dobbins had scarcely left the office when Lois and Margaret arrived. "My, how the morning has gone!" Mr. Westcote remarked as he greeted Lois with a hearty shake of the hand. "I suppose we had better get down to business at once, as no doubt you wish to go home this afternoon.
"Suppose we go out for a while, Father," Margaret suggested. "You will wish to see him privately, I suppose." "Remain just where you are," was the reply. "It is not necessary for you to leave." When they were alone Lois and Margaret discussed what Mr. Westcote had just told them. "Isn't it strange?" Margaret began. "Did you ever hear anything like it before?" "No, I never did," was the reply.
A mural tablet in Axcester Parish Church describes Endymion Westcote as "a conspicuous example of that noblest work of God, the English Country Gentleman." Certainly he was a typical one.
Day after day the cages of guineapigs flowed in a steady stream from Westcote to Franklin, and still Flannery and his six helpers ripped and nailed and packed relentlessly and feverishly. At the end of the week they had shipped two hundred and eighty cases of guinea-pigs, and there were in the express office seven hundred and four more pigs than when they began packing them. "Stop sending pigs.
The third and midmost window was a dummy, having been bricked up to avoid the window-tax imposed by Mr. Pitt in whose statesmanship, however, the brothers had firmly believed. Their somewhat fantastic names were traditional in the Westcote pedigree and dated from, the seventeenth century.
"Come, come, Miss Westcote," Bramshaw protested, as he stroked his silky moustache with the soft white fingers of his right hand. "Artists, you should realise, are generally misunderstood. You cannot judge us according to ordinary standards. We are often most intensely busy when we seem to be inactive.
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