Then where'd they be? Eh?"
"See here," said Hawkins, goaded into speech, "you just keep your mind
easy on that score at least, will you, papa, dear?"
"What's that? What's that?"
"This house isn't going up in smoke," went on the inventor tartly.
"You can take my word for it."
"Isn't, eh?" jeered the elderly Blodgett with his nasty sneering
little chuckle. "And how do you know it's not? Eh? Smarter men than
you, my boy, and in better built houses have----"
"Look here! This particular place isn't going to burn, because----"
Hawkins rapped out.
"What isn't going to burn, Herbert?" inquired Mrs. Hawkins, with a
cold, warning glance at her husband as she perceived that hostilities
were in progress. "Is he teasing you again, papa?"
"Teasing me!" sniffed Blodgett with an unpleasant leer at Hawkins.
"Teasing that antiquity!" Hawkins growled in my ear. "Say, isn't that
enough to----"
"Don't whisper, Herbert--it isn't polite," continued Mrs. Hawkins, the
playfulness of her manner somewhat belied by the glitter in her eye.
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