"What's that? Somebody wanting me?" replied the lady, still occupied with the veil. "Where's that tea I told you to send me this morning, Swartz? A fine thing to make me come out in all this for a pound of tea, just because I've nobody to send and two sick children on my hands! What? Oh, I can't hear you! Who d'you say wants me?" She was a thin, bent old lady with straggly gray hair and a very sharp penetrating voice. Polly felt the lump in her throat growing larger. Was this the jolly pretty Mrs. Jack Morgan that Bob had written about so often? "Dis young voman----" began Swartz, heavily. Polly stepped forward. "Mrs. Morgan, this is Bob Street's sister. He has often written us about you and your husband." "Husband? She ain't got no husband," interrupted Mr. Swartz, heatedly. "Ain't I told you dis iss de old lady--Jack Morgan's mother?" "I'm a little hard of hearing, my dear. Who did you say you were?" asked Jack Morgan's mother, patiently. Polly repeated her explanation, adding a few more particulars, all as loudly as possible. They had now an interested audience of Mexicans and Indians, male and female, old and young, who found the scene none the less attractive because they did not understand it. "Well, I suppose he didn't get your letter," said Mrs. Morgan. "Jack and his wife have gone over to spend a few days with some friends in Mescal or they'd run you over in the car." There was a pause as Polly digested this unwelcome bit of news, then the old lady continued: "They'd only been gone two days when both the children came down with mumps, and my Mexican woman's husband had to take that time to join the army, so, of course, she had to leave. If things weren't so messed up I'd take you home with me----" "Oh, no," said Polly, promptly. "I couldn't think of it. If I could just get somebody to drive me over----" Both she and Mrs. Morgan looked at Swartz. "Mendoza might if he ain't drunk--sometimes he ain't," volunteered that gentleman. "Oh, no, I don't think I'd like him," shivered Polly. "Isn't there anybody else?" "Nobody with a car," replied Mrs. Morgan. "It'd take you till morning to drive over--the roads are awful. Mendoza is a very decent old thing. You go and see if you can get him, Swartz," and Swartz lumbered away. Old lady Morgan understood how to make herself obeyed. "Have you tried to get Athens on the 'phone?" "Telephone?" A smile broke over Polly's unhappy face. "Why, I never thought of that." "Good heavens, child, where do you think you are? Here, I'll get them for you." She led the way to the office. "I haven't seen your brother since he went up to Douglas to get married," she said. "Didn't know they'd come home." "Oh, yes, they must be home," said Polly, an awful doubt coming into her mind. "They--they must be home!" Mrs. Morgan seized the receiver and began exchanging insults with the invisible Central. After several minutes she gave up the effort.