"Oh, yes—yes—yes!"
Mr. Penrose interrupted eagerly:
"The drifts must be about forty feet high on that stretch south of The Lolabama. There's a gap in the mountain where the wind comes through a-whoopin'. I mean the place where the steer chased Aunt Lizzie—did any one ever tell you that yarn, Cone?"
Mr. Cone, with one foot over the door-sill and clinging to the jamb, as if he half expected they would wrench him loose and make him go back and listen, answered with unmistakable irony:
"I think I recall having heard someone mention it."
It required more than irony to discourage Mr. Penrose, however, and he insisted petulantly:
"Come on back here, Cone! I'll explain just how Wallie jumped that steer and went to the ground with him. It's worth listening to twice."
Twice! Mr. Cone had heard it more times than he had fingers and toes.
"The telephone's ringing," he pleaded.
"Go answer it, then; looks like you'd want to learn something!"