His tone misgave her; and she said truthfully that she was
content not to know who owned the car. "I joke sometimes about
how you keep things to yourself," she added, "but I really never
do pry in your affairs, Walter."

"Oh, no, you don't!"

"Indeed, I don't."

"Yes, you're mighty nice and cooing when you got me where you
want me," he jeered. "Well, _I_ just as soon tell you where I
get this car."

"I'd just as soon you wouldn't, Walter," she said, hurriedly.
"Please don't."

But Walter meant to tell her. "Why, there's nothin' exactly
CRIMINAL about it," he said. "It belongs to old J. A. Lamb
himself. He keeps it for their coon chauffeur. I rent it from
him."

"From Mr. LAMB?"

"No; from the coon chauffeur."

"Walter!" she gasped.

"Sure I do! I can get it any night when the coon isn't goin' to
use it himself. He's drivin' their limousine to-night--that
little Henrietta Lamb's goin' to the party, no matter if her