Her face hardened remarkably, so that her chin set as if tautened by iron bands. Those eyes glinted with real menace.
“He did, did he? Along that line of talk! The clapper-jaw! He’s altogether too free.” She surveyed me keenly. “And naturally you couldn’t understand such lingo.”
“I was not curious enough to try, my dear madam. He talked rather at random; likely enjoyed bantering me. But,” I hastily placated in his behalf, “he recommended Benton as a lively place, and you as a friend of value in case that you honored me with your patronage.”
“My patronage, for you?” she exclaimed. “Indeed? To what extent? Are you going into business, too? As one of—us?”
“If I should become a Bentonite, as I hope,” I gallantly replied, “then of course I should look to permanent investment of some nature. And before my 43 traveling funds run out I shall be glad of light employment. The brakeman gave me to understand merely that by your kindly interest you might be disposed to assist me.”
“Oh!” Her face lightened. “I dare say Jerry means well. But when you spoke of ‘patronage’—— That is a current term of certain import along the railroad.” She leaned to me; a glow emanated from her. “Tell me of yourself. You have red blood? Do you ever game? For if you are not afraid to test your luck and back it, there is money to be made very easily at Benton, and in a genteel way.” She smiled bewitchingly. “Or are you a Quaker, to whom life is deadly serious?”
“No Quaker, madam.” How could I respond otherwise to that pair of dancing blue eyes, to that pair of derisive lips? “As for gaming—if you mean cards, why, I have played at piquet and romp, in a social way, for small stakes; and my father brought Old Sledge back from the army, to the family table.”
“You are lucky. I can see it,” she alleged.
“I am, on this journey,” I asserted.
She blushed.