“Sure.” Denny laid the paper down and followed Wayne out of earshot of the lone patron. “What is it, my boy?”
In a low voice Wayne confided their predicament and made his proposal. Denny was sympathetic, and interjected, “I want to know!”, “Think of that now!”, and similar remarks during the narrative, and when Wayne had finished turned instantly and slid two cups and saucers toward the coffee urn.
“Here,” he exclaimed, “you fellers put this down before you do any more jabbering. There’s the sugar forninst you, Junius. What’ll you have to eat, now? Beef stew, corned beef hash, ham, eggs——” He ran an eye down the placard on the wall. “What’ll it be, boys?”
“Then you don’t mind doing it?” asked Wayne. “I’ll be awfully much obliged to you, Mr. Connor. I don’t know just when I can pay you back, but it won’t be very long, I reckon, and——”
“Ah, go on!” replied Denny gruffly. “Eat what you want. I don’t want your dog, kid!”
But Wayne was firm, even with the fragrant odour of that coffee in his nostrils, while June, already on a stool, was rolling longing eyes at the pies and cakes standing in rows on the shelves. “If you won’t take Sam for—for security,” said Wayne earnestly, “I won’t do it, sir. He won’t be any trouble and he doesn’t eat very much. I reckon you’d have to keep him tied up for a couple of days, because he might try to get away and follow me, but he’d soon get used to you, sir.”
Denny frowned thoughtfully from Wayne to Sam. “That’s all right,” he said at last, “only suppose I get fond of him, eh? I got an awful weak heart for dogs, kid. Look here, I tell you what. Sam can be security, do you see, and you can keep him just the same. Then if you don’t pay up, do you see, I’ll take him. Now what’s it going to be? That corned beef hash is pretty good tonight, and if you put a couple of eggs on it——”
“That’s silly,” interrupted Wayne. “Suppose we left town?”
“Oh, I’d have to risk that. You wouldn’t, though. Sure, I know you’re a straight lad.”