"_Covington is coming!_ Don't you
understand?" he shouted. After all, the gods were not deaf! Good
old Culver, who had never failed him, was coming as a deliverer.
Even in the face of his extraordinary outburst the attention of
the beholders was drawn to Lawrence Glass, who caused the porch
to shake beneath his feet; who galloped to his employer, and,
seizing him by the hands, capered about like a hippopotamus.
"I told you 'Allah' was some guy," he wheezed. "When does
Covington arrive?" Wally reread the message. "It says 'Noon
Friday.' Why, that's to-day! He's here now!"
"'Rah! 'Rah! 'Rah! Covington!" bellowed the trainer, and Mrs.
Keap sank to a seat with a stifled moan.
"Why all the 'Oh joy! Oh, rapture!' stuff?" questioned Berkeley
Fresno.
"As Socrates, the Hemlock Kid, would put it, 'Snatched from the
shadow of the grave,'" quoth Glass, then paused abruptly. "Say,
you don't think nothin' could happen to him on the way over from
the depot?"
"I'm so sorry we didn't know in time to meet him," lamented Miss
Chapin.
"And I could have run over to the railroad to bid him welcome,"
laughed Speed.
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