“Ayomide,” said Mr. Templeton-Rath, raising his brows. “Temper your sire.”
“I cannot,” she said with an apologetic shrug as she rose from the couch and then matched his grin. “One and a half points!”
Jasper privately thought that there should be some points distributed for guessing the individual words that went into the ship’s name, but he did not think it wise to voice this, as the Templeton-Rath and Rath brood now had a bit of a glint in their eyes about the whole thing.
Miss Rath drew theSnapdragonand performed it with precise, crisp movements, clapping her hands like a snare and then rearing up like a winged beast. Mrs. Templeton-Rath identified it and took the next slip.
She held up two fingers, then one, tugged on her ear, and then mimed immense size.
“Big!” said her husband. “Large!”
She pointed at him, smiling. Then used her hands and fingers to mimic building a fire.
“Camp! Campfire!” Mr. Rath guessed.
“Flame?” Miss Templeton-Rath put in.
Their hostess shook her head and held up a finger, then widened her arms and made an accordion motion at the fire, stopping occasionally to indicate that the flame was growing higher.
“Bellows,” said Lem, nodding in understanding. “This is theBarge Bellows.”
The bell rang.
Libba made a click of annoyance. “Them again!”
“Us again,” Miss Rath confirmed, smiling brilliantly. “Good luck, Mr. Lem!”
Lem, as it happened, was a skilled mime. So skilled that it clearly startled the room. He quickly depicted himself trapped in a box, demonstrating that he could push out, and then crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.
“Coffin?” said Libba. “Tomb?!”
“Casket!” Mr. Templeton-Rath said. “Aha! TheTreasure Casket!”
Three protesting voices arose in unison to chide him for guessing early and guessing correctly.
“Papa!”
“John!”
“Uncle!”
He grinned widely and said, “Me! My turn.”
Their host’s turn began with him using his arm to mimic a winding, sinuous motion and then crouching down with fingers up, and gazing toward the ceiling.
“Drowning? Floundering?” guessed his wife, frowning.
“An eel?” Lem said, uncertainly.
“Snake!” Miss Templeton-Rath returned excitedly.
Libba gasped when the mime nodded and pointed to his daughter, verifying her guess. “Finally! Come now, my fellows, we must win a round!”
“Ah,” said Jasper, lighting up when Mr. Templeton-Rath crouched down again with his fingers sticking up over his head. “Snake in the Grass!”
The bell rang again, winning cheers from the three of them.
“You did it, my clever hero!” Libba said, clapping her hands together, cheeks pink with what looked like genuine delight. “You are next! Do us proud!”
