"He never spoke to me once the whole trip," I added hastily.
Dad looked less thoughtful.
"It was nice of him to wait till I had you with me, wasn't it?"
Dad smiled. "If you think it was, it probably was, my dear," he
said.
Chapter Three
The nice young man did more than find my missing trunks; he found a
custom-house officer, and, after asking me privately which trunks
contained my most valuable possessions and how much I had thought of
declaring, he succeeded in having them passed through on my own
valuation without any undue exposure of their contents.
By this time Dad had grown very respectful. To see his little
Elizabeth treated like a queen, while on all sides angry women were
having their best gowns pawed over and mussed; was a most wholesome
lesson. He paid the thousand and odd dollars duty like a little man.
We'd been saved a lot of bother, and nobody hates a lot of bother
more than Dad. So when the trunks were locked and strapped and ready
to be sent to our hotel, Dad went up to the nice young man and said:
"I'm Tom Middleton, from California, and this is my daughter
Elizabeth. We're both very grateful to you, and if you should ever
happen to come to California, I hope you'll look us up.
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