“Hump!” grumbled the police sergeant, “anybody would think—” But what anybody would think was lost on Josie who hung up the receiver with a click.
“Asleep at the switch as usual!” she exclaimed. “But I must hurry back to my counter. I wish that old Major Simpson would get busy and help me instead of circling around me with his eyes hanging out on his cheeks.”
“Shall I make him stop?” asked Mr. Burnett.
“Oh no, perhaps he is safer watching me than he would be helping me. Anyhow that Jimmy Blaine is on the job all right. He has been popping in and out of the store all morning pretending to buy socks and ties and matching ribbons for his imaginary wife. He is a clever lad. I have a notion I’d better give up selling things for a while if you will supply a girl for my counter.”
“Indeed, yes!” agreed Mr. Theodore.
When Josie did not return to her duties of selling notions the girls at the neighboring counters commented on it.
“Do you reckon she’s been shipped?” wondered one.
“Hardly—she’s too good at the business and as regular as clock work.”
“It’s funny she went off with the boss and has been gone an age and no sign of her. I do hope she isn’t in any trouble. Look! There’s a green girl at the button counter!”
“Whatcher reckon is the matter? That old Simp is at the bottom of it I betcher. He’s been bugging his eyes out at Josie for ever so long. Look, there he is back again. He looks worried over something.” Thus spoke Min, but her flow of eloquence was cut short by a customer demanding to see some Irish lace.