Quinn, quite won her heart, too, with his music, and was even
known to desert his work for the boon of a bit of pie.
When she was suffering from the heat of the stove, and was ready to throw
up her job and return to the bright lights of Phoenix, "Red" invariably
came around to the door with music on his lips, his shock of hair blown by
the soft wind, looking so boyish that she had to succumb to him, boil
another pot of coffee, and lay a place for him at the corner of the table.
"Be off wid yez!" she always began by saying. But the insinuating harmonica
was his only reply; and she ended by begging him to come in and play for
her while she messed with the pots and pans, and maybe found some batter
for a plate of griddle cakes.
On this particular morning, work being useless since things were going so
badly for Jones, "Red" slipped up the road and reached the kitchen door
just as Mrs. Quinn was washing up.
"Oh, so there ye be, me boy!" was her motherly greeting. "Come in, an'
maybe--who knows?--I'll find a cup o' coffee fer ye, though I'm not
thinkin' ye deserve it."
"Red" loved the odors from this fragrant kitchen. The stove always
gleamed, and when Mrs.
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