“I’m sure I’m ever so much obliged, sir,” replied Dick. “My name is Darrell. Dick Darrell, I——”
What was the matter with Martin Mudd?
The instant Dick announced his name he started back theatrically, stared, raised his hat to the two girls, and, wheeling about, turned the corner and disappeared.
“Is he crazy? He must be!” exclaimed Dick.
“No, I don’t think so,” replied the girl addressed as Clara Eglinton, a beautiful blonde of about Dick’s own age. “He is very eccentric, though. He sometimes has business with my father. Oh, Mr. Darrell, I want to thank you ever and ever so much for your brave act. Those insulting fellows! It was just dreadful! I don’t know what Susie and I would have done if you had not come.”
“I’m sure I’m most happy to have been of service to you,” replied Dick, raising his hat. “May I offer to see you to your home?”
“Why, it is right here in the next house,” replied the girl. “Good night, Mr. Darrell. We must go in.”
Evidently Miss Eglinton did not care to pursue the acquaintance.
Dick tipped his hat again and the two girls ran up the stoop of a handsome house and vanished in an instant, leaving Dick to continue his walk.
“A pretty girl!” he murmured. “A very pretty girl. I only wish I was going to stay in Washington. I might find a chance to get better acquainted, but I suppose she will forget all about me before I return.”