“He doesn't hate anything except giving up money,” added the Little Red Doctor.
“He hates cruelty,” retorted the Bonnie Lassie. “And he's brave. Two points to his credit. I believe you could do anything with the Meanest Man if you could get him mad enough.”
“Well, my dearest,” said Cyrus the Gaunt with that condescending surrender which is one of his few faults as a husband, “since you have so good an opinion of Mr. Morse, suppose you tackle him for a contribution.”
“I will,” said the Bonnie Lassie. “I'll go now.”
She went. Presently she returned. It was not the return of a victress.
“How much?” asked the Little Red Doctor.
The Bonnie Lassie threw out empty and eloquent hands.
“And what did he say?” inquired Cyrus the Gaunt.
“He indicated that he'd see me in Hades first.”
“Then I'll go over and knock his head off,” declared her husband, reddening. “I've always wanted to do it anyway.”