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There was a new breeze, spicily cool. Miss Hoag breathed out, "Ain't this something grand?" "Giddy-ap!" cried the Baron, slappity-slappity at the great boulder of the Granite Jaw's head. "Giddy-ap!" They plowed forward, a group out of Phantasmagoria as motley a threesome as ever strode this side of the Land of Anesthesia. "How do you like it at Mrs. Bostum's boarding-house, Mr. Jastrow?
Say, I'd see a lady as far as the devil on that. Good night!" At Mrs. Bostum's boarding-house, one of a row of the stare-faced packing-cases of the summer city, bathing-suits drying and kicking over veranda rails, a late quiet had fallen, only one window showing yellowly in the peak of its top story.
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