“Know?” With the Hyde-like change comes another, and I feel positively facetious. “Why I know your ring of course, the same as I know your handwriting on a telegram. What is it? I’m busy.”
“I’m busy, too. Don’t swell up.” (Imagine “swell up” from Sandford, the repressed and decorous!) “I just wanted to tell you that the honkers are coming.”
“No! You’re imagining, or you dreamed it!... Anyway, what of it? I tell you I’m busy.”
“Cut it out!” I’m almost scared myself, the voice is positively ferocious. “I heard them not five minutes ago, and besides, the storm 287 signal is up. I’m getting my traps together now. Our train goes at three-ten in the morning, you know.”
“Our-train-goes-at-three-ten––in-the-morning!”
“I said so.”
“Our train?”
“Our train: the one which is to take us out to Rush Lake. Am I clear? I’ll wire Johnson to meet us with the buckboard.”
“Clear, yes; but go in the morning––Why, man, you’re crazy! I have engagements for all day to-morrow.”
“So have I.”