"For one thing," Carolyn June went on, ignoring the inane question, "you
are in love--"
"I ain't!" the over-hasty denial slipped from his lips unintentionally.
"Lie!" she laughed, "you can't help telling 'em, can you? And you are
thinking--" She paused while her eyes rested demurely on the roses in
her hand.
"What am I thinking?" Skinny asked breathlessly.
Before she could reply an agonized spitting, yowling and hissing,
accompanied by the rattle of tin, came from behind the kitchen. "What's
that?" Carolyn June cried half frightened at the instant a yellow house
cat, his head fastened in an old tomato can, came bouncing backward,
clawing and scratching, from around the corner.
"Gee whiz!" Skinny exclaimed, "it's that darned cat again--Sing Pete
goes and dabs butter in the bottoms of the cans and the fool cat sticks
his head in trying to lick it out and gets fastened. It looks like the
blamed idiot would learn sometime. It's what I call a rotten joke
anyhow!"
Sing Pete appeared at the kitchen door cackling with fiendish joy at the
success of his ruse.
Carolyn June stared, apparently stricken dumb by the antics of the
struggling animal.
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