“You-all keep hollerin’ so I can hear you. I kin git lost mighty easy.”
The light became a blur almost instantly, but he was not fifty feet from the wagon when he shouted:
“I got him!” Then—his voice shrilled in astonishment—“Sufferin’ Saints! It’s a woman!”
CHAPTER XV
ONE MORE WHIRL
Mr. Toomey folded his comfortable bathrobe over his new pajamas and tied the silken cord and tassel, remarking casually:
“I think we’ll have breakfast here this morning.”
The flowing sleeve of Mrs. Toomey’s pink silk negligee fell away from her bare arm as she stood arranging her hair before the wide-topped dresser of Circassian walnut that looked so well against a background of pale gray wall paper with a delicate pink border.