me. "You look as though you'd seen a ghost."
"Only a vision, sweetheart," I told her. "Come on in."
That was spoken very lightly, but boy how it felt deep down inside! Sally's about five feet three, and beautiful from any angle. Her coppery hair frames a small face, and I think it's her eyes that get me most. They're big and brown, and half the time they're full of the devil. But the other half they're so serious that Sally could be a thousand years old. She has the darndest ideas, especially about animals and animal training, and she spouts them out on the slightest provocation.
"What'd you have for breakfast?" she wanted to know.
"A little girl about your size. Too bad you weren't around. I could have eaten another one."
"Clint Roberts, the great humorist!" she said scathingly. "But you do look terrible, and no wonder. Look at this house! The only things in place are the
