And how his sea-salted soul hated them! Like him, thought Sally. Wherever was he to get the money for an automobile? It was lucky he had a woman(!) to handle what he had! But there was a method in his madness, also one in hers.
"No, it's permission for Ben to come and see me," she returned demurely, but triumphantly.
His mouth fell open.
"You little fox!" he sputtered in admiration, then he stormed "I—will—not!"
"But you promised!"
"I said the thing—you wanted permission to see a fool boy isn't a thing. It's got to be something you can feel, handle, touch. See my girl?"
It was his turn to be triumphant, and the cane stamped victoriously into the house.
However he must have relented in part, for the red-wattled face again appeared in the doorway.
"Changed your mind, Daughter? Shall I order that dod-gasted devil's gig?"
"No thank you."
She looked up at the tree. Her eyes blinked rapidly, though the big Baldwin gave plenty of shade.
Suddenly they were focussed on that gate, which somehow seemed to have a personality of its own. To strangers its click might always be in one key, but she could distinguish many changes in pitch, and varying intimations. It always served as a sort of wooden butler announcing new arrivals.
Phil Huntington slammed it boldly. He always did every-
