"
"Yes, Alviry, I've had a close call. This young man saved my life."
"Nonsense," said Ajax gruffly. "I did nothing of the sort, Mrs.
Skenk."
"Yes, you did," she insisted, grimly obstinate.
"Any ways," said Mrs. Swiggart, "you'll lose what has been saved,
mother, if you stand there in the rain."
For five days it rained steadily. Our creek, which for eleven months
in the year bleated sweetly at the foot of the garden, bellowed loudly
as any bull of Bashan, and kept us prisoners in the house, where we
had leisure to talk and reflect. We had been robbed and humbugged,
injured in pride and pocket, but the lagging hours anointed our
wounds. Philosophy touched us with healing finger.
"If we prosecute we advertise our own greenness," said Ajax. "After
all, if Laban did fleece us, he kept at bay other ravening wolves. And
there is Mrs. Skenk. That plucky old soul must never hear the story.
It would kill her."
So we decided to charge profit and loss with five hundred dollars, and
to keep our eyes peeled for the future. By this time the skies had
cleared, and the cataract was a creek again.
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