"From your report of what you heard," says I, "and from the looks of the ground 'n everything, I should judge that the Harbor Hills Exploring and Excavating Co. had been making a night raid on our property."
"Pooh!" says Vee. "I never heard of such a company. But if there is one, why should they come here?"
"Oh, just prospectin', I expect," says I.
"For what?" demands Vee.
"For stuff that the 18th amendment says they can't have," says I. "Gettin' down to brass tacks, for a case of dry gin."
Even that don't satisfy Vee. She demands why they should dig for any such thing on our land.
"They might have heard some rumor," says I, "that MacGregor Shinn went off and left it buried there. As though a Scotchman could ever get as careless as that. I don't believe he did. Anyway, some of them smart Alec commuters who were kiddin' me so free yesterday must have worked up blisters of their own. My guess is that they lost some sleep, too."
You don't have to furnish Vee with a diagram of a joke, you know, before she sees it. At that she squints her eyes and lets out a snicker.
"I wonder, Torchy," says she, "who could have started such a rumor?"
"Yes, that's the main mystery, ain't it?" says I. "But your flower bed is about ready, ain't it?"