“Oh no. I don’t think either of you could whip the other. But it would be terrible to have either of you hurt either of you.”
Winfield laughed, but all he said was, “You’re a mighty nice girl.”
She laughed, “Thanks.”
Then both looked about guiltily to see if Vickery were listening. Nothing important had been said, but their hearts had been fencing, or at least feinting, at a sort of flirtation.
Vickery was gone.
“For Heaven’s sake!” said Sheila.
“He probably dropped out when we stopped some time ago to let that wagon pass.”
“I wonder why?” Sheila said, anxiously.
“Oh,” Winfield laughed, “ ’Gene’s such an omni—om—he reads so much he’s probably read that two’s company and three’s a crowd.”
This was a trifle uncomfortable for Sheila, so she said, “What time is it, please?”