"Look here," the chauffeur demanded, "are you kidding me or are you a blooming fool? I can't see any connection between that old queen and the creature that landed on me last night." He paused and a sudden look of fear leaped into his eyes. "Say," he gasped, "surely you're not Abner Andrews, are you?"
"I am an' I ain't. I was an' I isn't, so there ye are. Now kin ye jist tell me who I am, anyway?"
But the chauffeur did not wait to reply. He had retreated, and was out in the adjoining room when Abner had finished.
"Don't be skeered, young man," the latter remarked. "Ye can't run very fer in this hole, anyway, an' I kin ketch ye whenever I want ye."
"Oh, Lord!" the unhappy chauffeur groaned. "It's her husband, and he's crazy! What am I to do?"
"Hold ye'r tongue, that's what ye kin do," Abner roared. "De ye think I'm goin' to kill ye right off? That'd be too good fer the likes of you. Come in here an' set down, an' tell me why ye ran off with my queen."
"Your queen! Good heavens! Why didn't you tell me she belonged to you? Are you sure you're not crazy?"
"I will be soon if ye don't stop ye'r gab and set down. There, that's better," he continued, when the other had perched himself gingerly upon the edge of the cot. "Now, look here, young feller, I want to know why ye chose my queen fer ye'r joy-ride last night? It wasn't fer her beauty, or attractive manner, was it?"
"Oh, Jerusalem, no!"
"Well, why was it? Out with it."