“Naw!” the girl answered.
She sat before him quietly, a small, tan-colored woman, with small eyes, small hands, and features as dull and expressionless as the face of a rag doll.
“My gosh,” Tick howled. “Whut become of dat leetle gold wrist-watch I lef’ on dat gatepost?”
“Did you leave one out dar?” Button asked innocently.
“Suttinly!” Tick said. “An’ you got it, too. I know, because I peeped at you from behime a stump.”
“Dat’s right!” Button snickered.
“Whar is it?” Tick demanded.
“It didn’t hab no name on it an’ maw claimed it wus her’n,” she told him.
“Huh,” Tick grunted in despair. “Dat wus fer you—it was my weddin’ present to you.”
“Yo’—which?” the girl inquired in a startled tone.