A minute later they went in to dinner, followed by the two dogs, and sat at opposite sides of a round table and were attended by a serious-faced butler. Kendall held the butler in a good deal of awe and marveled at the casual, almost disrespectful way in which his host addressed that functionary. Once or twice he almost held his breath for fear that the butler, whose name appeared to be Murdock at times and at other times Scout, would take umbrage at the way in which Gerald bossed him around. And when, finally, Gerald said carelessly, “That’s all, Murdock, for a while. Just beat it, will you?” Kendall was quite sure that Murdock would immediately pack his trunk and leave. But he didn’t, for when it was time for the dessert Gerald pressed a button and Murdock noiselessly reappeared, just as though nothing had happened. That dinner was one to remember and dream about, and both boys, though more especially Kendall, enjoyed it heartily from the funny little disks of toast covered with some sort of paste that tasted like fish, and which, following Gerald’s lead, Kendall anointed with lemon-juice, to the black coffee served in cups so frail that Kendall almost feared to lift one.