of a wintry sunset.

She handed me a telegram minus the envelope and asked me, with a
voice that was intended to be cuttingly sarcastic, "Is there any
answer?"

I opened the message and read:


New York.

John Henry,
Jiggersville, N. Y.

The two queens will be out this afternoon. They are good girls so
treat them white.

Bunch.


The unspeakable idiot, to send me a wire worded like that! No
wonder Clara J. was sitting on the ice cream freezer! Of course
it only meant that Bunch's sister and her daughter were coming out
to look at their property, but--suffering mackerel! what an eye
Clara J. was giving me!

"And who are the two queens?" she queried, bitterly.

My face grew redder and redder. Every minute I expected to turn
into a complete boiled lobster. I could see somebody reaching for