a call like this" He laid down his knife and fork and whistled, but neither Mrs. Hartley nor Mrs. Harrison could quite place it, either, though Mrs. Hartley thought it sounded like something.
"By the way—" His ladies pricked up their ears at his carefully casual tone. "A funny thing happened this afternoon. . . . A little more rice and gravy, grandma? . . . When we were in the woods Joe Green came tearing through as if he was going to a fire, and I called to him and so did Sonny Boy Driggs, but he went plunging right ahead as if he didn't see or hear us."
"Maybe he was drunk."
"Oh no, grandma, I wouldn't like to think that."
"I saw him this afternoon, too," Mrs. Harrison put in. "Through, mother? Through, Hartley? Sure? Very well, Ida, you may clear. I stopped in at the station to get a new time-table, and he was seeing his wife off on the four-fifteen. She was crying."
"I think there's something wrong there," Mrs. Hartley said.
"H'm! mother—h'm!"
"What are you humming about, Sadie?"
"Some other subject while Ida's passing, if you don't mind, mother. Well, it was a lovely afternoon to take the kiddies to the woods, son."
The spoons made a sucking sound as they helped themselves to rocking chocolate blancmange turned out of a mold with an ear of corn on top.
