“Why, why, what langwitch! Why call her names?”
“She’s a caution! Get along now, and if you can’t find her, at least you can quit botherin’ me.”
“All right. But tell me this, before we part. Did she confide to your willin’ ears anything about the murder?”
“Uncanny you are, lad! How’d you guess it?”
“I’m a limb of Satan. What did she tell you? and when?”
“Only this morning; early, before she flew off.”
“Couldn’t very well have told you after she started.”
“No impidence now. Well, she told me that the night of the murder, as she ran from here to the garage, she saw on the south veranda a man with a bugle pipe!”
“A pipe dream!”
“I dunno. But she told it like gospel truth.”