Say, Billy, but those brown eyes were the only lights in the room, but she had the hooks into me good and proper and I was squirming and gasping for breath. I felt that I could not hurt my case any and I spoke out just as I felt and just as I caught another glimpse of those eyes, I said:
“Miss Laura, I would have gone to the hot place and asked the devil to help me if I could have gotten there quicker than the way I went to work.”
“I believe you would, Mr. Henderson, and I am glad to know that you are honest even if your language is forceful.”
“Call me Jack,” said I, “and you can walk on my face.”
Say, Billy, wasn’t I gone to the bumpers, though?
“Sit down here, Mr. Jack,” said she, “I want to talk to you.”
We sat down, some one came around with refreshments, cake and ice cream.
“No pot wash for me,” said I, “haven’t you any—” I was going to say bug juice, but just then Miss Laura stuck a pin into my leg and said to the attendant:
“Mr. Henderson says he does not feel like eating ice cream, but will take something later.”
The attendant passed on; ain’t she a trump, though.