XV. Will Holley’s Theory
When the bag was completely repacked and again securely locked, Bob Eden climbed with it to the dusty attic. He reappeared, the trap-door was closed and the stepladder removed. The three men faced one another, pleased with their morning’s work.
“It’s after twelve,” said Holley. “I must hurry back to town.”
“About to make heartfelt suggestion you remain at lunch,” remarked Chan.
Holley shook his head. “That’s kind of you, Charlie, but I wouldn’t think of it. You must be about fed-up on this cooking proposition, and I won’t spoil your first chance for a little vacation. You take my advice, and make Eden rustle his own grub today.”
Chan nodded. “True enough that I was planning a modest repast,” he returned. “Cooking business begins to get tiresome like the company of a Japanese. However, fitting punishment for a postman who walks another man’s beat. If Mr. Eden will pardon, I relax to the extent of sandwiches and tea this noon.”
“Sure,” said Eden. “We’ll dig up something together. Holley, you’d better change your mind.”
“No,” replied Holley. “I’m going to town and make a few
