"I don't know as I'd better buy a jersey to-day," giggled Idy, as she stepped from the wagon to the elevated wooden sidewalk. "I'm afraid it won't fit. I feel as if I'd been scared out o' ten years' growth."
IV.
As they drove home in the chill, yellow evening, Idy turned to her lover, and asked abruptly,—
"Who was that felluh?"
"What felluh?"
"The young felluh with the sandy mustache, the one that stopped the team."
Parker's manner had been evasive from the first, but at this the evasiveness became a highly concentrated unconcern. He looked across the lake, and essayed a yawn with feeble success.
"There was a good many standin' around when I got there. What sort o' lookin' felluh was he?"
"I just told ye; with a sandy mustache, short, and middlin' heavy set."
"Sh-h-h!" said Parker, reaching for his gun. Idy stopped the horses.