“Yes,” John grinned good-naturedly, “if it’s pay day.
“The only trouble with that,” he said, striking a match to light the fire, “is that a woman would want a stove without cracks in the lids.”
“Then she’d want a gas range,” added Jimmie.
“Yes, and after that an electric refrigerator, an automatic water heater and all the rest that makes for a real home which we haven’t got. So—o,” John drawled, “what say we wash the dishes?”
Wash them they did and after that they prepared a meal of pork chops, brown gravy, french fried potatoes, and apple turnovers.
After the meal John sat thoughtfully by the fire. Jimmie was half asleep. The fire gleamed brightly through the cracks in the lids. All was peace among the pines, when, quite without warning there came a knock at the door.
“Who’s that?” John sprang to his feet.
Jimmie thought of that other night’s adventure and of the trap he had set. His skin had begun to crawl when the door burst open and a smiling face beneath a tumbled mass of red hair looked in upon them.
“Behold the woman,” said John with a sweeping gesture. It was Mary Dare.
“Why the dramatics?” she asked with a laugh.