"But how is everyone?" goes on Warrie. "Uncle Jake still going out
after stone-crabs?"

"Every mornin'," says Valentina. "And they're runnin' fine this
winter, too. He put near a bushel on the schooner before we sailed.
We had 'em all the way up."

"M-m-m-m!" says Warrie, smackin' his lips. "Remember the ones we
roasted that day?"

"'Deed I do," says she. "You didn't want to try 'em at first."

"Wasn't I all kinds of a chump, though?" says he. "And that first
chicken pillau you made! Say!

"You know," says Warrie, turnin' to Gladys, "it was Valentina who
actually knocked out that rheumatism of mine. Did it with Green
Springs water and fresh limes. Awful dose! But inside of two weeks
she had me rowing a boat."

"Really!" says Gladys, smotherin' a yawn.

"Don't you believe him, Miz Prentice," protests Valentina. "It was
just livin' a month in Sand Spur. That would cure anyone of anything."

"Sand Spur!" echoes Gladys. "It must be a wonderful place."

Valentina and Warrie swaps grins.

"It's a dozen shacks strung along two snaky wagon ruts through the