gummed up. After we've led him into the
house, though, and he's had a drink of spring water, he does a little
better.

"It was to protect the cabbages, monsieur," says he.

"Eh?" says I. "Protect 'em from what?"

"There is a wicked worm," says Leon, "which does his evil work in the
night. Ah, such a sly beast! And so destructive! Just at the top of the
young root he eats--snip, snip! And in the morning I find that two,
four, sometimes six tender plants he has cut off. I am enrage. 'Ha!' I
say. 'I will discover you yet at your mischief.' So I cannot sleep for
thinking. But I had found him; yes, two. And I was searching for more
when monsieur----"

"Yes, I know," says I. He's glancin' worried at the old pistol I'm still
holdin' in my hand. "My error, Leon. I might have guessed. And as the
clock's just strikin' three, I think we'd all better hit the hay again.
Come on, Vee; it's all over."

And, in spite of that half hour or so of time out, I was up earlier than
usual in the mornin'. I had a little job to do that I'd planned out
before I went to sleep again. As soon as I'm dressed I slips downstairs,
takes that Turkish pistol, and chucks it into the middle of the pond.
I'll never know whether it was loaded or not. I don't want to know. For
if it had been---- Well, what's the use?

Comin' back in through the kitchen, I finds Leon busy dishin' up toast
and eggs. He glances at me nervous, and then hangs his head. But he gets
out what he has to say man fashion.

"I trust monsieur is not displeased," says he. "It was not wise for me
to walk about at night. But those wicked worms! Still, if monsieur
desires, it shall not occur again. I ask pardon."

"Now, that's all right, Leon," says I soothin'. "Don't worry. When it
comes to playin' the boob act, I guess we split about fifty-fifty. I'd a
little rather you didn't, but if you must hunt the wicked worm at night,
why, go to it. You won't run any more risk of being shot up by me. For
I've disarmed."

CHAPTER VII

BACK WITH CLARA BELLE

And me kiddin' myself I was fairly well parlor-broke. It seems not.
You'd 'most think, though, I'd had enough front-room trainin' to stand
me through in a place like Harbor Hills. I had a wild idea, too, that
when we moved into the country we'd tagged the reg'lar social stuff
good-by.

That was a poor hunch. I'm just discoverin' that there's more tea fights
and dinner dances and such goin's on out here in the commuter zone tha