Probably mother wanted me for something or other, and Dorinda had sent her husband to hunt me up.
The knock was repeated.
"Come in," I said, sleepily.
The door opened and in came, not Lute, but a tall, portly man, with a yachting cap on the back of his gray head, and a cigar in his mouth.

He looked at me as I lay on the couch and I lay on the couch and looked at him.
"Afternoon," he said, curtly.

"Is your name Paine ?" I nodded.

I was waking rapidly, but I was too astonished to speak.
"Roscoe Paine ?" "Yes." "Well, mine's Colton.

I sent you a letter this morning.