CHAPTER XV
THE THIRD FAIR LADY
Two old men were crossing Maple Street as Lansing swung into it from the dirt road. They quickened their steps and from the safety of the sidewalk glanced at the occupants of the car.
“Wasn’t that Oliver October?” demanded Mr. Sikes, pursuing the car with an outraged gaze.
“It was,” replied Mr. Link, putting his hand to his side. “He yelled at us. Lordy, I’m too fat to hurry like that.” He strode on a few paces before discovering that he walked alone. Mr. Sikes had stopped stock-still and was gazing blankly after the receding roadster. “Come on! What’s the matter with you?”
“Say, did you notice? Did you notice that woman sitting on his lap?”
“She wasn’t doing anything of the kind. She was sitting between ’em.”
“Well, anyhow, this settles everything,” said Mr. Sikes weakly. “He’s as good as hung right now. Absolutely.”
“What the—”
“Say, are you blind? Can’t you see anything at all?”