“I ain’t, but I ain’t been deaf and dumb and blind round here for three years. I can pick ’em every time. You’re taking your stitch in time, little missy. You ain’t even got a wheeze in you. Why, I bet you ain’t never seen red!”
“No!” she cried, with quick comprehension.
“Sure you ain’t!”
More tears and laughter in her voice.
“I’m going to-night, then—at six, Mr. Blaney.”
“Good! And to-morrow? There’s a lot of swell country and breathing space round here I’d like to introduce you to. I bet you don’t know whether Ingleside Woods is kindling or a breakfast food—now do you?”
“No.”
“Ever had a chigger on you?”
“Huh?”
“Ever sleep outdoors in a bag?”