"
"Please, Harry," she whispered petulantly, "hold the umbrella still.
The water from the rainspout is dripping down my back."
"By George, I wish Mrs. Van Truder could see me now," came valiantly
from the old gentleman around the corner. "Say, whistle again." Derby
gave three sharp, shrill whistles. In silence they waited a full
minute for the response. There was not a sound except the dripping of
the rain.
"I'm afraid something is wrong," said Derby. Just at that instant
Windomshire, despite most heroic efforts to prevent the catastrophe,
sneezed with a violence that shook his entire frame. "Sh! don't
speak," hissed the startled minister. "We are being watched. That was
unmistakably a sneeze."
"I can't see any one," whispered Mr. Van Trader, excitedly. "I see
just as well in the dark as I do in the light, too."
"Some one is coming. See! There's a light down the road. Let's step
out of sight just for a moment."
Windomshire sneezed again, as if to accelerate the movements of the
two men.
"Hang it all!" he gurgled in despair. Mr. Derby had blinded his
lantern and was hurrying off into the grove with his companion.
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