“The Scarlet Death,” Edwin corrected.
“An’ don’t work all that funny lingo on us,” Hare-Lip went on. “Talk sensible, Granser, like a Santa Rosan ought to talk. Other Santa Rosans don’t talk like you.”
The old man showed pleasure in being thus called upon. He cleared his throat and began.
“Twenty or thirty years ago my story was in great demand. But in these days nobody seems interested—”