“It can hardly do any good,” said the nurse in a discouraged tone. “But if you really wish to go, Gloria, I will go with you.”
“Very well,” said Gloria, “we will go just as soon as we get rested after luncheon.”
At the corner near Gloria's home, the District Nurse bade Gloria good-by, as she had an errand to do on her way home. Gloria watched her to a car. Then she turned and made her own way back to Treeless Street. It was on the corner near No. 80 that she came upon the very one she was wishing for.
“Oh, Dinney, I am so glad to find you! I want your help. You are a good business man, and I want you to do something for me.”
“I a good business man?” said Dinney, grinning from ear to ear. “I should say! What's your business, Miss?” And having said this, he doubled up with droll laughter.
“Don't!” said Gloria, laying her hand beseechingly upon him. “I am really in earnest.”
Dinney straightened, and then in as decorous a manner as he could command, said:
“I'm your man for business.”
“Very well. Now, Dinney, you're listening. I want you—to—find—out,” said Gloria, impressively speaking each word distinctly, “who it is that owns No. 80. I want you to find it out, and I want you to tell me and no one else. If you will find out and promise not to tell anyone else, and will come to me with the name, then I will give you a five-dollar gold piece.”
Dinney's breath was fairly taken away. He stood there on the sidewalk stock still, looking into the face of the girl before him. At last he said in an awed voice: