the other man caught his sleeve and growled:

"I say, isn't that Pete Cheever--there, right there by the rail?
Yes, it is--and with--!"

Then Tom gave a start and said: "Ssh! Here's Charity Coe."

Both men looked confused; then they brightened and greeted a new
batch of drifters, and there was a babble of:

"Why, hello! How are you, Tom! How goes it, Jim? What's the good
word, Mary? What you doing here, Charity, and all in black? Oh,
I have to get out or go mad."

Kedzie, eavesdropping on the chatter, wondered at the commonplace
names and the small-town conversation. With such costumes she
must have expected at least blank verse.

She was interested to see what the stern sentinels would do to
this knot of Toms, Jims, and Marys. She peeked around the corner,
and to her surprise saw them greeted with great cordiality. They
smiled and chatted with the sentinels and were passed through
the silken barrier.

Other people paused and passed in or were rejected. Kedzie watched
Mr. Cheever with new interest, but not much understanding. He had
next to nothing to say. After a time she overheard Zada say to him,
raising her voice to top the noise of the band: "Say, Peterkin,
see that great big lad over there, the human lighthouse by the sea?
Peterkin, you can't miss him--he's just standing up--yes--isn't