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The Official Bug-Catcher.
Not a mile below the exit from Peter's grounds, Linda perceived a heavily laden person toiling down the roadway before her and when she ran her car abreast and stopped it, Henry Anderson looked up at her with joyful face.
"Sorry I can't uncover, fair lady," he said, "but you see I am very much otherwise engaged." What Linda saw was a tired, disheveled man standing in the roadway beside her car, under each arm a boulder the size of her head, one almost jet-black, shot through with lines of white and flying figures of white crossing between these bands that almost reminded one of winged dancers.

The other was a combination stone made up of matrix thickly imbedded with pebbles of brown, green, pink, and dull blue.
"For pity's sake!" said Linda.

"Where are you going and why are you personally demonstrating a new method of transporting rock ?" "I am on my way down Lilac Valley to the residence of a friend of mine," said Henry Anderson.

"I heard her say the other day that she saved every peculiarly marked boulder she could find to preserve coolness and moisture in her fern bed." Linda leaned over and opened the car door.
"All well and good," she said; "but why in the cause of reason didn't you leave them at Peter's and bring them down in his car ?" Henry Anderson laid the stones in the bottom of the car, stepped in and closed the door behind him.