"I'm glad, Griggs," said Hawkins, with a watery smile--"I'm glad you had
sense enough to keep your grip going around that sprocket at the bottom.
I knew we'd be all right if you didn't let go----"

"Hawkins," I said viciously, "shut up!"

"But--oh, good Lord!"

I glanced toward the gate. The carriage was driving in. The ladies were
in the carriage. Evidently the afternoon euchre had been postponed.

"There, Hawkins," I gloated, "you can explain to your wife just why you
knew we'd be all right. She'll be a sympathetic listener."

Said Hawkins, with a sickly smile:

"Oh, Griggs!"

Said Mrs. Hawkins, gasping with horror as Patrick whipped the horses to
our side----.

But never mind what Mrs. Hawkins said. This chronicle contains enough
unpleasantness as it is. There are remarks which, when addressed to one,
one feels were better left unsaid.

I think that Hawkins felt that way about practically everything his wife
said upon this occasion. Let that suffice.