“Do you?”
“Well, not very intimately,” was my somewhat uncertain reply. “Is he in town?”
The girl laughed in real earnest. When she did compose herself, she asked, “Are you a reporter for the new paper?”
I told her I was not, and then I asked her if she could tell me where Mr. Ketchum’s office was.
It was down the street near the Holy Moses saloon, she said; and I congratulated myself upon having gotten a straight and lucid reply from her.
“Is he in town?” was my next question.
“He was at this table when you came in. Don’t you know him?”
“Not very well,” said I.
“Then how do you know you saw me with Mr. Ketchum?”