“Why, I suppose you can count me in,” said Bingham. “But how is it to be done?”
“Boltwood is mashed on one of those chorus girls,” said Frank.
“Know her name?”
“Lotta.”
“Lotta what?”
“Lotta trouble, perhaps. Never mind her last name; Lotta, Lottie, or Tottie will go.”
“Well, what’s the play?”
“With the aid of Lotta’s magic name, he may be lured away.”
“How?”