“An' den on Sunday, when he can't go to church and preach—” She got no further. A sharp exclamation brought both Mandy and Douglas to attention.
“Preach!” Polly almost shouted. She looked at him with genuine alarm this time.
“That will do, Mandy,” Douglas commanded, feeling an unwelcome drama gathering about his head.
“Great Barnum and Bailey!” Polly exclaimed, looking at him as though he were the very last thing in the world she had ever expected to see. “Are you a skypilot?”
“That's what he am, chile.” Mandy slipped the words in slyly, for she knew that they were against the pastor's wishes, but she was unable to restrain her mischievous impulse to sow the seeds of curiosity that would soon bear fruit in the inquisitive mind of the little invalid.
“Will you get onto me a-landin' into a mix-up like this?” She continued to study the uncomfortable man at her side. “I never thought I'd be a-talkin' to one of you guys. What's your name?”
“Douglas.” He spoke shortly.
“Ain't you got no handle to it?”
“If you mean my Christian name, it's John.”
“Well, that sounds like a skypilot, all right. But you don't look like I s'posed they did.”