“Frightened?” He threw the word over his shoulder to a disheveled Maria Busby, clinging to her bonnet. The mares were still quivering.
Through white lips, Mrs. Busby murmured that she was all right, now!
“What’s that you were tryin’ to tell me a way back?” he asked when the mares had settled down into a sober gait.
“There’s no such thing as pain,” began Mrs. Busby. She must always begin there. It was the initial letter of her creed.
“I thought you said something about not having fear?”
“Oh, I knew I couldn’t explain it to you, you’re such a mocker, Sam Busby. But I’ve got books for you to read. They’ll show you.”
“It’s not another sort of Electropoise?” grinned her spouse. “Do you remember, Maria, how you used to have me sittin’ there, one end of that infernal machine in a pail of water, the other tied around my leg, keep me sittin’ like a fool waitin’ for currents. Nary a current, or a raison Paddy would say. Holy smoke!”
She held up a solemn finger. “See that?”
“Anything the matter? Another felon?”
“I can think a pain in that finger.”