ot naked. Will you please go away?"

"Sally!" It was Mom, appearing in the doorway of the parlor. "You leave
the gentleman alone." She went off again.

"Yes," Sol said. "Please let me get dressed. If you don't mind." The
girl didn't move. "What time is it?"

"Dunno," Sally shrugged. "I like poached eggs. They're my favorite eggs
in the whole world."

"That's good," Sol said desperately. "Now why don't you be a good girl
and eat your poached eggs. In the kitchen."

"Ain't ready yet. You going to stay for breakfast?"

"I'm not going to do anything until you get out of here."

She put the end of a pigtail in her mouth and sat down on the chair
opposite. "I went to the palace last night. They had an exelution."

"Please," Sol groaned. "Be a good girl, Sally. If you let me get
dressed, I'll show you how to take your thumb off."

"Oh, that's an old trick. Did you ever see an exelution?"

"No. Did you ever see a little girl with her hide tanned?"

"Huh?"

"_Sally!_" Mom again, sterner. "You get out of there, or
you-know-what ..."

"Okay," the girl said blithely. "I'm goin' to the palace again. If I
brush my teeth. Aren't you _ever_ gonna get up?" She skipped out of the
room, and Sol hastily sat up and reached for his trousers.

When he had dressed, the clothes still damp and unpleasant against his
skin, he went out of the parlor and found the kitchen. Mom was busy at
the stove. He said: "Good morning."

"Breakfast in ten minutes," she said cheerfully. "You like poached
eggs?"

"Sure. Do you have a telephone?"

"In the hallway. Party line, so you may have to wait."

He tried for fifteen minutes to get through, but there was a woman on
the line who was terribly upset about a cotton dress she had ordered
from Sears, and was telling the world about it.

Finally, he got his call through to Salinas, and a sleepy-voiced Fred,
his old Army buddy, listened somewhat indifferently to his tale of woe.
"I might miss the wedding," Sol said unhappily. "I'm awfully sorry."
Fred didn't seem to be half as sorry as he was. When Sol hung up, he was
feeling more despondent than ever.

A man, tall and rangy, with a bobbing Adam's apple and a lined face,
came into the hallway. "Hullo?" he said inquiringly. "You the fella had
the car stolen?"

"Yes."

The man scratched his ear. "Take you over to Sheriff Coogan after
breakfast. He'll let the Stateys know about it. My name's Dawes."

Sol accepted a careful handshake.

"D