We already had a place to mislay blame. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. A young man was playing the banjo. As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings. Earles protested, seating himself before the desk, and dipping his pen in the ink. "Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. "The doctor and I agreed to give you a chance—for her sake.
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