She fought back her growing terror. “Perhaps I am. I don’t want to risk missing my brother.”
“Nice little filly. Will she stand?”
“Certainly. But please—I must be going.”
Again she reached for the reins, which he held just out of her grasp. She could not lay hold of them without coming into close contact with him.
“We’ll leave her stand, and you ’n’ me’ll go into Johnny’s place and have a glass o’ beer.”
“‘You ’n’ me’ will do nothing of the sort!” she said hotly. “Will you please hand me those reins?”
She was trembling from head to foot now. From the door she heard the sounds of tittering. Those who occupied it were too far off to hear, but they were able to interpret the meaning of her outstretched hand and the immovable figure of the man.
“What makes you so sore on me, kiddo?” he asked. “Ain’t I treated you like a gentleman?”
“To a certain extent. You’re not doing so now, though. Give me those reins!”
“Aw, come now! Forget the dignity stuff. I’ve seen you before. You and your kid brother was here one day, and the two o’ you was sneakin’ around, peepin’ into dance halls. I guess you was interested, all right, but kinda shy about buttin’ in. Well, there’s nothin’ to be afraid of. Come on in with me. I’ll show you a good time. Ask any of ’em if ‘Blacky’ Silk ain’t a perfect gentleman.”