“Good for you!” laughed Josie. “Now please tell me what you would do about this case?”
“First, I’d take you home to dinner and let you get a good look at Mr. Cheatham. I’d like to wring his neck.”
“Well, don’t look that way at him or he’ll not be able to eat his dinner. But tell me, please, Mr. Trask, how are you going to explain me to your family?”
“Don’t Mr. Trask me! I’m Teddy now, even more so than when you first got in my cutter.”
“All right, Teddy!”
“I tell you who you are. You’re a girl I used to know at Cornell, but hanged if I haven’t forgotten your name.”
“Miss Friend, Josie Friend. At least that is a right good working name, and since you christened me you should remember it. My real name is Josie O’Gorman.”
“I used to read stories about Detective O’Gorman and his stunts. I tell you he was a peach.”
“He was my father,” said Josie, for the second time that day.
“Jiminy crickets! I’d rather know you than Babe Ruth or Dempsey or Douglas Fairbanks. Do you know you haven’t shaken hands with me yet?”