"Oh, that Hartley Wiggins! I might have known it!"
"Known what?" I asked, pricking up my ears.
"That he would be afraid of a pumpkin with a candle inside of it. Did you hear that yell?"
"Anybody would have yelled," I suggested. "I think I should have dropped dead if you'd tried it on me."
"No, you would n't," she asserted with unexpected flattery.
"Don't be deceived, Hezekiah; I should have been scared to death if that thing had popped up in front of me."
"I don't believe it. I gave you a worse test than that. When I switched off the lights and swung a feather duster down the stair-well by a string and tickled your face you did n't make a noise like a circus calliope scaring horses in Main Street, Podunk. But that Wiggins man!"
"He's a friend of mine and as brave as a lion. Out in Dakota the sheriff used to get him to go in and quiet things when the boys were shooting up the town."
"Maybe; but he shied at a pumpkin and can be no true knight of mine. Cecilia may have him. I always suspected that he was n't the real thing. Why, he's even afraid of Aunt Octavia!"
"Well, I rather think we 'd better be!"