public that
"No. 1 Winesaps" were "2 for 5c."

Crow inspected the apple critically for a moment, looking for a suitable
place to begin; then, with his mouth full, he went on: "The only thing I
got ag'inst her is that she's settin' a new style in Tinkletown. In the
last two-three days I've seen more'n one of our fair sex lookin' at
veils in the Five an' Ten Cent Store, and this afternoon I saw somebody
I was sure was Sue Becker walkin' up Maple Street with her head wrapped
up in something as green as grass. Couldn't see her face to save my
soul, but I recognized her feet. My daughter Caroline was fixin' herself
up before the lookin'-glass last night, seein' how she'd look in a veil,
she said. It won't be long before we won't any of us be able to
recognize our own wives an' daughters when we meet 'em on the street."

"My girl Queenie's got a new pink one," said Alf Reesling. "She made it
out of some sort of stuff she wore over her graduatin' dress three years
ago."

"Maybe she's got a bad complexion," ventured Mr. Jones.

"Who? My girl Queenie? Not on your--" began Alf, bristling.

"I mean the woman up at Mrs. Nixon's," explained Mr. Jones hastily.

Harry Squires had taken no part in the conversation up to this juncture.
He had been ruminating. His inevitable--you might almost say, his
indefatigable--pipe had gone out four or five times.

"Say, Anderson," he broke in abruptly, "has it ever occurred to you that
there might be something back of it that ought to be investigated?" The
flare of the match he was holding over the bowl of his pipe revealed an
eager twinkle in his eyes.

"There you go, talkin' foolishness again," said Anderson. "I guess there
ain't anything back of it 'cept a face, an' she's got a right to have a
face, ain't she?"

"I mean the _reason_ for wearing a veil that completely obscures her
face--_all the time_. They say she never takes it off, even in the
house."

"Who told you that?"

"Angie Nixon. She says she believes she sleeps in it."

"How does she deduce that?" demanded Anderson, idly fingering the badge
of the New York Detective Association, which for obvious reasons,--it
being a very hot night,--was attached to his suspenders.

"She deduced it through a keyhole," replied Mr. Squires. "Angie was up
at the cottage last night to get something she had left in an upstairs
hall closet. She just happened to stoop over to pick up something on the
floor right in front of Mrs. Smith's door