“Not hurt a mite, but I’m laughin’!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Oh, Jim, you–you should have seen it. That ottermobile hit square in the middle of the wagon, and there ain’t–isn’t–a single egg─”
“Here, you!” the old man, dripping from head to foot with the golden slime, rushed up and tugged excitedly at Jim’s arm. “Come on an’ help me to ketch them horses! What’d I bring you along for? Let the girl be, I don’t ker if her neck’s broke! I got to lodge a complaint against them rascals, an’ have ’em stopped! You’re my witnesses that they run into me, an’ I’ll make ’em pay a pretty penny─”
“I care whether my sister’s neck is broken or not!” Jim retorted grimly. “Go after your own horses. I engaged to unload eggs, and it looks as if the job was finished. Lou, are you sure you’re all right?”
82The old man danced up and down in the road, spattering flecks of egg about him.
“We’ll see about that,” he shrilled. “You come along with me! You’re my witnesses─”
“We’ll be your witnesses that you were on the wrong side of the road, and knew it,” Jim helped Lou to her feet. “They warned you, and you wouldn’t turn out.”
With an outburst of inarticulate rage the old man dashed off down the road, and Lou, helpless with laughter, clung to Jim’s slippery sleeve.
“Don’t mind him,” she gasped. “Old skinflint! Oh, Jim, you l-look like an omelet.”