turn his head. The car went round the curve of the driveway
at perilous speed, and only the fact that from road to old red
barn was a good twenty rods made it seem possible that the
Green Imp could come to a standstill in time to prevent its
banging into the rear wall of the barn.

Two minutes later Burns ran by the Chesters' porch on his way
to his own. Chester hailed him.

"What's your everlasting hurry, Red? Come up and sit down and
cool off."

"Not now," called back a voice curtly, out of the June
twilight. The big figure ran on and disappeared into the
small house, the door slamming shut behind it.

"Red's in a temper. Tell by the sound of his voice.

"Is he ever in anything except a temper?" inquired a guest of
the Chesters. Arthur Chester turned on her.

"Show's you don't know him much, Pauline. He's the owner of
the fiercest good disposition ever heard of. He's the
pepperest proposition of an angel this earth has ever seen.
He's a red-headed, sharp-tongued brute of a saint - "

"Why, Arthur Chester!"

"He's a pot of mustard that's clear balm - if you don't mind
getting stung when it's applied."