You the on'y man bettin' on 'im!" "I risk it!" cried George, merrily.

"I put her all on now--ev'y cent! 'At boy's go' be flower o' the flock!" This singular prophecy, founded somewhat recklessly upon gratitude for the meaning of "lamiDAL," differed radically from another prediction concerning Bibbs, set forth for the benefit of a fair auditor some twenty minutes later.
Jim Sheridan, skirting the edges of the town with Mary Vertrees beside him, in his own swift machine, encountered the invalid upon the highroad.

The two cars were going in opposite directions, and the occupants of Jim's had only a swaying glimpse of Bibbs sitting alone on the back seat--his white face startlingly white against cap and collar of black fur--but he flashed into recognition as Mary bowed to him.
Jim waved his left hand carelessly.

"It's Bibbs, taking his constitutional," he explained.
"Yes, I know," said Mary.

"I bowed to him, too, though I've never met him.