"Yes, yes."
"And a kind o' sickly green dress?"
"Oh, yes, and a dark complexion."
"And a sort of steely air as if she'd dare the world?"
"That's it; oh, yes, she wasn't afraid of any one."
"Then I've sighted your game," he said, gravely, very gravely, considering that the "game" was pinching one of his legs.
"I'll give you the scent," he went on. "Just follow this road till you come to the three pine-trees at the cross. Then turn toward Spruceville."
"Oh, thank you, thank you. I'm ever so much obliged. But was she on foot or driving?"
"Driving like sixty, sitting up on the seat beside a smooth old farmer with a red wig on, and a face as long as a church."
"A red wig!" exclaimed the lady. "Why, that's Mr. Dabley—he's one of our advisory committee."