"I think I could hear steam whistles there!" Miss Theodosia smiled. But
Evangeline's sober mind continued its line of thought.
"Stefana says if you'll hang somethin' red out when you're asleep, or got callers, or anythin', then she'll make us play funeral."
"Oh, no—not that!" No red flag of warning could justify playing funeral.
"Well, Hold-Your-Breath, then. We can't make much noise holding our breaths! Stefana's the champion Hold-Your-Breath-er. You take an awful long breath—this way—" But, already, Miss Theodosia was on her way home. She found her callers moving agitatedly about. "Central asked what doctor, and for the life of me I couldn't remember a living doctor's name in this town. 'Anybody,' I told her. 'Tell him to come quick; somebody must be dying over to the little Flagg place."
Miss Theodosia lifted a hand to stem the tide of Mrs. Andrew's words.
"He's stopped dying—listen! It's all quiet now; it was only play. I'll head Central off. Excuse me a minute—I mean, another minute!"
But Central had done her work well—beyond heading-off. Already an automobile was speeding up the road; behind it clattered a hurriedly-driven buggy. Miss Theodosia saw them both stopping at the little Flagg place. She smiled. She was not needed over there to make any explanations or apologies—Evangeline was there!
CHAPTER III
She sat on her porch after the visitors had gone, thinking strange Miss Theodosia thoughts. A man, coming up her front path and lifting a soft felt hat, interrupted the strangest thought of all.
"I beg your pardon. Is this where somebody needs help? I was told—"