“Nope. Everything’s swell.”
I caught the reflection of light gleaming from a dime on the floor’. I picked it up, handed it to her, and said, “Don’t overlook this one. It may be lucky.”
She thanked me with a swift smile, said, “Well, I’ll see if it is.”
I felt someone watching me, turned around, and saw an attendant, wearing a green apron with change pockets in it, eyeing us in scowling suspicion.
The girl dropped the dime into the machine, and jerked the handle. The woman who had the gaudy face was walking out past us. She coughed as she caught the eye of the green-aproned attendant.
Apparently, it was a signal.
He came walking swiftly toward us as the whirling dials of the slot machine went “clack” — “click” — “bang” — “chunk” — “jingle”!
A tinkling shower of dimes spilled into the metal cup and overflowed into her hands.
The attendant busied himself at a machine right behind us.
The young man said, “That’s the way.” His laugh was easy. “Go to it, sister. You’re playing a run of luck. Only you don’t know it. I’ll see what I can do on the two-bit Machine while you tickle the dimes.”