“I’m in the deuce of a mess,” replied Scott.
“You mean Indians?”
“Worse than that—it’s a woman, Mrs. Van.”
“A woman!” Mrs. Van was plainly shocked. “My land, Marc Scott, you ain’t been foolin’ with that heathen in the kitchen?”
Scott chuckled. “Listen, Mrs. Van, I oughtn’t to string you like that—it is a woman, though. You heard me read that letter of Bob’s?”
“Yes.”
“He said to read the mail.”
“Well, haven’t you?”
“Yes, and the first one I tumbled into feet foremost was a confidential one from his sister. She says she’s coming down here. She thinks he’s here.”
“What? You mean here? Athens?”