“Sallie Slocum and May Manton, from Toonerville,” she replied, briskly. “Two society buds.”
The reporter solemnly wrote down the names.
“Toonerville—where—what state?” he asked.
“Toonerville, Trolley,” answered Dot, without blinking an eyelash.
This time the young man didn’t know whether to smile or not.
“You’re kidding me! That’s a name in Fontaine Fox’s cartoon.”
“Sure it is,” agreed Dot. “But it’s a place, just the same. Just write and ask Mr. Fox, if you want to know.”
Linda, meanwhile, had been examining her gas supply. It was sufficient to take them to the suburbs, where Ted and Louise lived, and she was anxious to be off.
“Come on, May,” she said to Dot, managing with a great effort to keep her face straight. “We’re off—if the young man will be kind enough to get out of the way.”
The reporter went back down the fire-escape, and Linda took off, but as the girls flew away they could distinguish faces peering at them from every window in sight. After all, they had afforded a pleasant diversion to a dull, work-a-day world, and Linda was thankful that it had all turned out so happily.