THE SONG OF THE LARK
humored, sunburned face seemed fairly to swell with amazement and anger.
"That 's all right, Giddy," Ray called in a conciliatory tone. "Nothing injured. I 'll put em all up again as I found 'em. Going to take some ladies down in the car to-morrow."
Giddy scowled. He did not dispute the propriety of Ray's measures, if there were to be ladies on board, but he felt injured. "I suppose you 'll expect me to behave like a Y.M.C.A. secretary," he growled. "I can't do my work and serve tea at the same time."
"No need to have a tea-party," said Ray with determined cheerfulness. "Mrs. Kronborg will bring the lunch, and it will be a darned good one."
Giddy lounged against the car, holding his cigar between two thick fingers. "Then I guess she 'll get it," he observed knowingly. "I don't think your musical friend is much on the grub-box. Has to keep her hands white to tickle the ivories." Giddy had nothing against Thea, but he felt cantankerous and wanted to get a rise out of Kennedy.
"Every man to his own job," Ray replied agreeably, pulling his white shirt on over his head.
Giddy emitted smoke disdainfully. "I suppose so. The man that gets her will have to wear an apron and bake the pancakes. Well, some men like to mess about the kitchen." He paused, but Ray was intent on getting into his clothes as quickly as possible. Giddy thought he could go a little further. "Of course, I don't dispute your right to haul women in this car if you want to; but personally, so far as I 'm concerned, I 'd a good deal rather drink a can of tomatoes and do without the women and their lunch. I was never much enslaved to hard-boiled eggs, anyhow."
"You 'll eat 'em to-morrow, all the same." Ray's tone had a steely glitter as he jumped out of the car, and Giddy stood aside to let him pass. He knew that Kennedy's next reply would be delivered by hand. He had once seen Ray
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