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Updated: May 18, 2025
We were a half-hour early for my appointment with Signor Petroskinski when Bunch and I strolled into the cafe of the Hotel Astor the next day. "Bunch," I said, when the waiter had forced a confession from us, "there's doings out home. Clara J. tipped me off last night that I must hand over my five thousand plunks to be properly invested by the Mayor of Ruraldene." "Uncle Peter!" chuckled Bunch.
Anybody who has ever lived in a suburban town will doubtless recall what handsome specimens of equine perfection may be found in the local livery stable not. The livery man at Ruraldene is named Henlopen Diffenbingle, and he looks the part, I judged from the excited manner in which he grabbed my deposit money that morning that he had a note falling due next day.
Dinner was nearly over that evening at Uncle Peter's villa in Ruraldene when suddenly the doorbell rang violently and two minutes later the servant announced that Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius McGowan were in the parlor. First I decided to faint; then I changed my mind and tried to figure out which would be the most cruelly effective way of killing Bunch Jefferson.
A ride through this tunnel on a hot day will put you over on Woosey Avenue quicker than a No. 9 pill in Hop Lee's smoke factory. In order to get out to Ruraldene I have to use the tunnel, and every time I use it it leaves something which looks like the mark of Cain across my brow. The first day I went through that tunnel will always remain one of my hottest memories.
I felt sure that Bunch was rid of his grouch by this time, and that he wouldn't have a rock in his hat for me for pulling that "Uncle Cornelius" gag. I rather expected he'd show up at Ruraldene some time Sunday evening. At any rate, I was sure Skinski and the Dodo bird had conned him back to real life, and that by Monday morning he'd be ripe for work again.
I'll have to duck back to Ruraldene after the show every evening or lose my card in the Happy Husbands' Union. It's different with you, Bunch; you're not married yet." "It isn't different at all," Bunch whipsawed me. "And you haven't any business to expect me to hike over the country with this outfit while you stay at home and read Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress."
Peaches and Aunt Martha said very little about Bunch's new relatives. They decided that "Uncle Cornelius" was eccentric and rather interesting, but when they thought of "Aunt Flora" they both got nervous and changed the subject. When I suggested the buggy ride to Peaches she was delighted, and I moseyed for the Ruraldene livery stable to get staked to a horse.
"If you think it's all right I'll trail," said Bunch, and we shook hands. "But not a word to the home folks," I cautioned him. Since Uncle Peter Grant was elected Mayor of Ruraldene one book ago, our family group considers it extremely disloyal to stay in the big town for more than four hours at a time.
Just then the train pulled into a station which I hadn't paid for, but I went out and took it, because it contained a little fresh air. Some day I will mention the name of this railroad company and make them blush. Well, after I left Bunch that afternoon, I ducked for the depot, and reached Ruraldene just in time to witness the beginning of a most painful episode.
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