"Because I didn't suggest tossing again?"
"Well, I'll be darned! How did you guess that?"
"You're a brick," Jean grinned. "As dense, every bit."
They got off at the next station, to the astonishment of the solitary native waiting for the down train, and struck across the fields. When they came to a forked road they stopped.
"We'll take turns at these decisions. You first."
"North."
They walked a mile between rickety fences that seemed to go on forever. Gregory looked out of the corner of his eye and Jean laughed.
"Did you do it on purpose?"
"If there isn't a break before that big maple down there, we'll call that a turn."
They reached the maple.