"Oh, wait a minute," said Miss Starbird, "I been making some potato salad for the private dining of the office, you better have some; it's the best I ever made."
"No, no," said Shorty, stoutly, "I don't want any."
"Hoh," sniffed Miss Starbird airily, "you don't need to have any."
"Well, don't you see," said Shorty, "I'm in training. I don't dare eat any of that kinda stuff."
"Stuff!" exclaimed Miss Starbird, her chin in the air. "No one else ever called my cooking stuff."
"Well, don't you see, don't you see."
"No, I don't see. I guess you must be 'fraid of getting whipped if you're so 'fraid of a little salad."
"What!" exclaimed Shorty, indignantly. "Why I could come into the ring from a jag and whip him; 'fraid! who's afraid. I'll show you if I'm afraid. Let's have your potato salad, an' some beer, too. Huh! I'll show you if I'm afraid."
But Miss Starbird would not immediately consent to be appeased.
"No, you called it stuff," she said, "an' the superintendent said I was the best cook in Placer County."