Ruth Fielding thus questioned, looked up slowly and sighed. She gestured with the hand that held her letter.
“It’s from that horrid Bloomberg, Helen,” she said.
“Sol Bloomberg!” Immediately interested, Helen sat up with a jerk and hugged her knees, gazing expectantly at her chum. “Don’t tell me he, too, has fallen a victim to your charms, Ruthie Fielding!”
“Don’t be silly.” Ruth spoke in a vague, preoccupied voice. “As a matter of fact,” she added ruefully, “I imagine whatever feeling Sol Bloomberg has for me is far from a tender one.”
“Then, what on earth is he writing to you about?” Helen was genuinely curious. “You aren’t thinking of entering into a business deal with him, are you?”
Ruth chuckled.
“That deduction is even more absurd than the first one, Helen Cameron. The mere idea of doing business with——”
“That hard-boiled cheat?” suggested Helen amiably.
“Such language! Nevertheless, Sol Bloomberg is all of that——”
“And then some!” murmured Helen irrepressibly.