"No."
"Not hungry, eh?"
"I'm hungry enough to eat a plush cushion, but—"
"What?"
"Mary!"
"Mariedetta?"
"Sure. She's been chasin' me again. If somebody don't side-track that Cuban, I'll have to lick Carara." He sighed. "I told you we'd ought to tin-can it out of here. Now it's too late."
Willie thrust his head in through the open window, inquiring, "Well, how's the breakfast goin'?" and withdrew, humming a favorite song:
"'Sam Bass was born in Indiany;
It was his natif home.
At the early age of seventeen
Young Sam commenced to roam.'"
"Fine voice!" said Lawrence, with a shudder.