her out, and keep her out," Blaze rumbled. "She ain't right; she
ain't--human. Why, what d'you reckon I saw her do, the other day? Makes
me shiver now. You remember that big bull-snake that lives under the
barn, the one I've been layin' for? Well, you won't believe me, but him
and her are friends. Fact! I saw her pick him up and play with him.
WHO-EE! The goose-flesh popped out on me till it busted the buttons off
my vest. She ain't my kind of people, Paloma. 'Strange' ain't no name
for her; no, sir! That woman's dam' near peculiar."

Paloma remained unmoved. "I thought you knew. She used to be a
snake-charmer."

"A--WHAT?" There was no doubt about it. Blaze's hair lifted. He blinked
through his big spectacles; he pawed the air feebly with his hands.
"How can you let her touch you? I couldn't. I'll bet she carries a
pocketful of dried toads and--and keeps live lizards in her hair. I
knew an old voodoo woman that ate cockroaches. Get shed of her, Paloma,
and we'll fumigate the house."

At that moment Mrs. Strange herself opened the kitchen door to inquire,
"Is anything wrong?" Misreading Blaze's expression for one of pain, she
exclaimed: "Mercy! Now, what have you done to yourself?"

But the object of her solicitude backed away, making peculiar clucking
sounds deep in his throat. Paloma was saying:

"This is my father, Mrs. Strange. You and he have never happened to
meet before."

"Why, yes we have! I know you," the seamstress exclaimed. Then a
puzzled light flickered in her black eyes. "Seems to me we've met
somewhere, but--I've met so many people." She extended her hand, and
Blaze took it as if expecting to find it cold and scaly. He muttered
something unintelligible. "I've been dying to see you," she told him,
"and thank you for giving me Paloma's work. I love you both for it."

Blaze was immensely relieved that this dreaded crisis had come and
gone; but wishing to make assurance doubly sure, he contorted his
features into a smile the like of which his daughter had never seen,
and in a disguised voice inquired, "Now where do you reckon you ever
saw me?"

The seamstress shook her head. "I don't know, but I'll place you before
long. Anyhow, I'm glad you aren't hurt. From the way you called Paloma
I thought you were. I'm handy around sick people, so I--"

"Listen!" Paloma interrupted. "There's some one at the front door." She
left the room; Blaze was edging after her when he heard her utter a
stifled scream a