I stole another look at the car, but Frances avoided me; so I came to a decision. I turned shortly on the driver.
"See here now, my good fellow," I said sharply, "you stop subjecting those ladies to annoyance. Drive on, or I'll report you to my friends."
He stared—seemed to be trying to stare me out of countenance, in fact. Then the grin slowly faded.
"Why, Dicky!" he exclaimed in an aggrieved tone, "don't you remember me—don't you know me?"
"I certainly do not," I answered with decision. I felt my face getting red with vexation. "And what's more, my name is not 'Dicky.'"
His hand slowly swept his chin and he whistled.
"Wha—Well, I'll be jiggered!" He whirled toward the car.
"On me, this time, I guess! You're right!"
Then his face clouded and he moved down upon me.
"Here, you get along now about your business, whoever you are!" His hand waved as though sweeping me away. "I've a mind to kick you for annoying that young lady."