"Matter enough! Here! take a squint through them glasses and tell me who's in that buggy comin' yonder ?" The buggy, a black dot far down the sandy road leading from the village, was rocking and dipping over the dunes.

The assistant took the glasses, adjusted them, and looked as directed.
"Why!" he said slowly, "there are three people in that buggy.

A man--and--" "And two women; that's what I thought.

Dum idiots comin' over to picnic and spend the day, sure's taxes.

And they'll want to be showed round the lights and everywheres, and they'll ask more'n forty million questions.
Consarn the luck!" Brown looked troubled.