John Parker grinned—the superior grin of one who knows his superior strength, "Like a great many principles that are excellent in theory, your plan will not work in practice."
"No?"
"No."
For the second time that day Kay saw Don Mike's face light up with that insouciant boyish smile.
Then he skipped blithely across the garden thrumming the guitar and singing:
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the
coming of the Lord!
At seven o'clock next morning, while Miguel Farrel was shaving, John Parker came to his door, knocked, and without further ado came into the room.
"Farrel," he began, briskly, "I do not relish your way of doing business. Where are the spark plugs of my two cars?"
"My dear man, I haven't taken them, so why do you ask me? I am not flattered at your blunt hint that I would so far forget my position as host as to steal the spark plugs from my guest's automobiles."
"I beg your pardon. Somebody took them and naturally I jumped to the conclusion that you were the guilty party."