He sat in the big armchair at the head of the table, and he was wearing the ceremonial sailor-suit with long trousers. On the table before him stood the birthday cake, its eight pink candles blazing gallantly. He leaned forward and lifted the plate, and the warm orange light shone into his clear eyes and glowed on his face, very brown beneath the straight, white line of the bandage.
"You must all wish on it," he said, "and then I'll blow out the candles."
They passed the cake from one to the other, gazing over the gusty candle-flames at Garth, while their lips moved solemnly. Jim held it longest and looked so hard at Garth that he was quite abashed.
"What a long one!" he said. "Now if I can blow all the candles out at once, all the wishes will come true."
He took a very deep breath for the purpose, and was about to dispatch the candles, when two long arms came over his shoulders and seized the plate.
"Wait a minute!" cried a gay voice. "There's another wish belonging to you!"
"Uncle Brob!" shouted Garth. "I didn't hear you coming!"
