And if she can't be first, she is healthily
curious about the woman who is. Desire would miss Mary very much."
"You've been a fool, Benis."
"I shall try not to be a bigger one."
The friends looked polite daggers at each other. And suddenly
smiled.
"To be continued in our next," said Rogers. "Is it finally settled
that we turn homeward tomorrow?"
"Yes. We did our last extracting from the hawk-eyed one yesterday.
He has been a real find, John. Do you know what he calls Aunt
Caroline? 'The-old-woman-who-sniffs-the-air.' Desire did not
translate. Isn't she rather a wonder, John? Did you ever see any-
thing like the way she manages Aunt?"
But the doctor's eyes were on the distant tents.
"Someone in blue is waving to us," he said. "It must be your Aunt."
Spence lazily raised his eyes.
"No. That's Desire. She is wearing blue."
"She was wearing pink this morning."
"Yes. But she won't be wearing it this afternoon."
"How do you know?" curiously.
The professor yawned. "By psychology! I happened to mention that
pink was Mary's favorite color."
Rogers opened his lips. He was plainly struggling with himself.
"Don't trouble," said Spence serenely. "I know what you feel it your
duty to say. But it isn't really your duty. And there would be no
use in saying it, anyway. I take my chances!"
CHAPTER XVIII
The long Transcontinental puffed steadily up toward the white-capped
peaks of a continent.
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