Jimmy again came closer, but Erna shook her head in warning. She had seen the storekeeper. Presently, she gave her lover a short nervous account of her morning’s trial. Jimmy swore a generous oath and begged her to drop her work at once. But Erna hesitated.
“Ah, come out o’ this!” he pleaded.
Erna would not answer.
“Come out o’ this, Erna!” he repeated seriously. “You’re sick o’ this. I’m sick o’ this. Let’s go away. We’re fixed now—or as good as fixed. The only job’s the minister’s. Come on, Erna!”
Still, the girl refused to answer, but it was evident that she was weakening—as Jimmy was aware too. Hurriedly, he recounted his victory of last night, emphasized the fact that he was stronger than ever, knew “more about the game,” and outlined the near future: that he was soon to meet Young Walcott, whom he would dispose of, and some unknown from Chicago. He would have quite a little money shortly, and he could support her “as a decent woman should be supported.” She would be happy. They would both be happy. “Come on, Erna!” he concluded. “Be a sport!”
Erna was in a groggy state. One last stinging argument would have finished her. She hesitated, as did Jimmy, who, unfortunately, resorted to stalling.
At length, she said: “Gimme until to-night!”
Now, Jimmy missed entirely: “But I say, Erna. I got an important date then.”
Her resentment returned at once. She recalled his neglect of yesterday. “What?” she demanded jealously.
“I got to see Nolan an’ Walcott an’ his manager to-night. We got to talk over an’ arrange things. Besides, Nolan’s givin’ a little spread in my honor among the boys. Can’t you tell me now? Tell me now!”