“Hang it, no! They had teeth and hair and things. Grey hair or getting grey—that sort of stuff. One of ’em wore glasses and one of ’em smoked rotten cigars.”
Jim squared off, looking at them in unhurried, but imperative fashion. “Have you two got your car here? Well, get your evening wraps and come along with us while we use it. We’re going to the Toast and Jam—to see if the people there know anything more, or can remember better than you, about these two men. And on the way down you can try to call back a better description of them.”
Jim was of compact build, although so thin that he had not an ounce of flesh that could be trained down. There was something about him that looked very forceful as he faced the two boys.
“I—we both have girls at this dance——” Crawf began, while Dum-Dum looked wildly around from four corners of his eyes.
“Well, get two stags to take ’em, if you feel any responsibility about ’em—tell ’em anything—but come as quickly as you can.”
The two boys vanished through the opening.
“They’re still dancing in the dark,” said Joy monotonously.
Jim consulted his watch. “We’ve only been here a little over six minutes.”
“I never saw anything like it—whole dances in the dark. Do they keep it that way all evening?”
“Oh, no.” Jerry was weaving with her fan an accompaniment to the music, unconsciously swaying back and forth in rhythm as she did so. “They turn ’em on after awhile. It gives you a new sensation, anyway——That’s good jazz, I’ll tell anyone.”