The car pulled up in front of the school. It seemed about as long as a tractor and a hay wagon combined. The windows — all ten of them — were tinted black, so Luke couldn’t tell if there was a boy inside staring out just as intently as Luke was staring in.

Oh, no. What if Smits’s parents had come, too?

Luke hadn’t thought of that before. Now panic coursed through his veins. He couldn’t meet all three Grants at once. He just couldn’t.

The driver’s door glided open — smoothly, like it was on oiled hinges. Luke held his breath, waiting to see who would appear. A polished boot stepped out, followed by a second one that seemed even shinier. Then a tall, aristocraticlooking man in a dark blue uniform and stiff cap stood up. The uniform had gold braid around the cuffs and collar, and at the rim of the cap. Luke could even have believed it was real gold, pure metal.

The man turned and practically marched, soldierlike, to the other side of the car. He opened a second door, held out his hand, and said, uSir?~~

So this wasn’t Mr. Grant This was a servant. A chauffeur.

Luke could see a very pale hand thrust out of the car and clasp the chauffeur’s. Then a boy stepped out. Luke recognized him from the picture of Smits Grant.

Somehow Luke managed to make his feet maneuver down the stairs, toward the car. Mr. Hendricks had made it quite clear: Luke had to act eager to see Smits. He had to rush over to him right away But Luke’s mind was racing faster than his feet.

What am I supposed to do when I get there? Shake his hand? Or — oh, no. What ~f the Grants are the type offamily who hug one another?

Luke stumbled at the bottom of the stairs but caught his balance again quickly. He didn’t think the chauffeur or Smits even noticed. They weren’t looking toward Luke. Luke planted his feet a mere yard from the younger boy, but he had to clear his throat before Smits turned his head toward Luke.