That means we won't get a chance to
be alone together, for about two days. I've got something to say
to you, Curly Haid, that won't keep that long with out running my
temperature clear up. So I'm allowing to say it right now
immediate. No, you don't need to turn them brown appealers on me.
It won't do a mite of good. It's Bucky to the bat and he's bound
to make a hit or strike out."
"I think I hear Mr. Henderson coming," murmured Frances, for lack
of something more effective to say.
"Not him. He's hogtied to the scenery long enough to do my
business. Now, it won't take me long if I get off right foot
first. You read my letter, you said?"
"Which letter?" She was examining attentively the fringe of the
sash she wore.
"Why, honey, that love-letter I wrote you. If there was more than
one it must have been wrote in my sleep, for I ce'tainly
disremember it."
He could just hear her confused answer: "Oh, yes, I read that. I
told you that before."
"What did you think? Tell me again."
"I thought you misspelled feelings."
"You don't say. Now, ain't that too bad? But, girl o' mine, I
expect you were able to make it out, even if I did get the
letters to milling around wrong.
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