s out a snort like a freight startin' up a grade. "Well,
what does she want with----?" Here he breaks off and fixes them chilled
steel eyes of his on Vincent.

No wonder. The pink flush has faded out of Vincent's fair young cheeks,
his big blue eyes are rolled anxious at the door, and he seems to be
tryin' to swallow something like a hard-boiled egg.

"Your mother, eh?" says Old Hickory. "Perhaps we'd better have her in."

"Oh, no, sir! Please. I--I'd rather see her first," says Vincent choky.

"Would you?" says Old Hickory. "Sorry, son, but as I understand it she
has called to see me. Torchy, show the lady in."

I hated to do it, but there was no duckin'. Such a nice, modest little
old girl, too. She has the same innocent blue eyes as Vincent, traces of
the same pink flush in her cheeks, and her hair is frosted up genteel
and artistic.

She don't make any false motions, either. After one glance around the
group she picks out Old Hickory, makes straight for him, and grabs one
of his big paws in both hands.

"Mr. Ellins, is it not?" says she. "Please forgive my coming in like
this, but I did want to tell you how grateful I am for all that you
have done for dear Vincent and me. It was so generous and kind of you?"

"Ye-e-es?" says Old Hickory, sort of draggy and encouragin'.

"You see," she goes on, "I had been so worried over that dreadful
mortgage on our little home, and when Vincent came home last night with
that wonderful check and told me how you had helped him invest his
savings so wisely it seemed perfectly miraculous. Just think! Twelve
hundred dollars! Exactly what we needed to free our home from debt. I
know Vincent has told you how happy you have made us both, but I simply
could not resist adding my own poor words of gratitude."

She sure was a weak describer. Poor words! If she hadn't said a whole
mouthful then my ears are no good. Less'n a minute and a half by the
clock she'd been in there, but she certainly had decanted the beans. She
had me tinted up like a display of Soviet neckwear, Piddie gawpin' at
her with his face ajar, and Vincent diggin' his toes into the rug. Lucky
she had her eyes fixed on Old Hickory, whose hand-hewn face reveals just
as much emotion as if he was bettin' the limit on a four-card flush.

"It is always a great pleasure, madam, to be able to do things so
opportunely," says he; "and, I may add, unconsciously."

"But you cannot know," she rushes on, "how proud you have mad