r ears, "Shall we?"

"We don't mind missing Mr. Dellogg," said Anna-Felicitas. "It's Mrs.
Dellogg we wouldn't like to miss."

The driver looked puzzled.

"Yes--that would be too awful," said Anna-Rose, who didn't want a
repetition of the Sack dilemma. "You did say," she asked anxiously,
"didn't you, that we were going to miss Mr. Dellogg?"

The driver, looking first at one of them and then at the other, said,
"Well, and who wouldn't?"

And this answer seemed so odd to the twins that they could only as they
stared at him suppose it was some recondite form of American slang,
provided with its own particular repartee which, being unacquainted with
the language, they were not in a position to supply. Perhaps, they
thought, it was of the same order of mysterious idioms as in England
such sentences as I don't think, and Not half,--forms of speech whose
exact meaning and proper use had never been mastered by them.

"There won't be another like Mr. Dellogg in these parts for many a
year," said the driver, shaking his head. "Ah no. And that's so."

"Isn't he coming back?" asked Anna-Rose.

The driver's jaws ceased for a moment to roll. He stared at Anna-Rose
with unblinking eyes. Then he turned his head away and spat along the
station, and then, again fixing his eyes on Anna-Rose, he said, "Young
gurl, you may be a spiritualist, and a table-turner, and a
psychic-rummager, and a ghost-fancier, and anything else you please, and
get what comfort you can out of your coming backs and the rest of the
blessed truck, but I know better. And what I know, being a Christian, is
that once a man's dead he's either in heaven or he's in hell, and
whichever it is he's in, in it he stops."

Anna-Felicitas was the first to speak. "Are we to understand," she
inquired, "that Mr. Dellogg--" She broke off.

"That Mr. Dellogg is--" Anna-Rose continued for her, but broke off
too.

"That Mr. Dellogg isn't--" resumed Anna-Felicitas with determination,
"well, that he isn't alive?"

"Alive?" repeated the driver. He let his hand drop heavily on the
window-sill. "If that don't beat all," he said, staring at her. "What do
you come his funeral for, then?"

"His funeral?"

"Yes, if you don't know that he ain't?"

"Ain't--isn't what?"

"Alive, of course. No, I mean dead. You're getting me all tangled up."

"But we haven't."

"But we didn't."

"We had a letter from him only last month."

"At least, an uncle we've got had."

"And he did