Chapter 21
Somebody Shot SaundersThe hot days dropped, one by one, into the past like fiery beads
upon a velvety black cord. Miss Georgie told them silently in the
meager little office, and sighed as they slipped from under her
white, nervous fingers. One—nothing happened that could be said to
bear upon the one big subject in her mind, the routine work of
passing trains and dribbling business in the express and freight
departments, and a long afternoon of heat and silence save for the
asthmatic pump, fifty yards down the main track. Two—this exactly
like the first, except that those inseparables, Hagar, Viney, and
Lucy, whom Miss Georgie had inelegantly dubbed "the Three Greases,"
appeared, silent, blanket-enshrouded, and perspiring, at the office
door in mid-afternoon. Half a
