“I remember my husband used to go fishing with you, Mr. Maynard. But he never brought fish into the house where I could see them till they were ready for the pan, so as not to shock me.”
“That was quite right of him, Mrs. Heard,” said Mr. Maynard, gravely. Then he turned to Dot again. “I hope you will all have a fine time on your tour—you, especially, my dear. Do—do you suppose you could spare a kiss for me—a good-bye kiss?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” said the generous Dot. “And I truly hope you won’t be sick again, Mr. Maynard.”
The man flushed deeply, saying:
“I have not been troubled by that sickness, my dear, since the day you were so kind to me; and—please God!—I never shall be again.”
He strode away then with a nod only to the others.
CHAPTER X—THE PASSING AUTOMOBILE
After the bustle of getting under way again had quieted down and the car was speeding merrily through the woodland and past the pleasant farms of the Oxbow Valley, Agnes began to talk eagerly to Neale O’Neil about the all-absorbing topic which occupied her mind.
“How much do you suppose Mr. Maynard really knows about the stealing of Mr. Collinger’s car?” she demanded.
“Not a thing!” said her boy friend, promptly.