“Culver!” Tish said. “Do you mean that—Lizzie, where’s my hat?”
Well, we had to recover it again from the engine house dog, whom we found burying it in the back yard. Tish’s mind, however, was far away, and she merely brushed it absently with her hand and stuck it on her head. Then she turned to Charlie Sands.
“I’m going to the license court,” she said, between clenched teeth. “And I am going to show that young fool that he is not going to hide behind any petticoats today.”
“It’s his privilege to get married if he wants to.”
“When I finish with him,” said Tish, grimly, “he won’t want to.”
All the way to the court house Tish’s lips were moving, and I knew she was rehearsing what she meant to say. I think that even then her shrewd and active mind had some foreboding of what was to come, for she called back unexpectedly to Aggie:
“Look in the right-hand pocket and see if there is a box of tacks there.”
“Tacks?” said Aggie. “Why, what in the world——”
“I had tacks to nail up flags this morning. Well?”
“They are here, Tish, but no hammer.”