"That sort of thing won't last forever."
"I suppose not; but, when you cease to be a popular hero, I think I can trust to your good judgment and business ability to manage things. Throw up the job! I should say not! I couldn't get along without you. And, besides, if you left me, your sister would go, too."
"That need not necessarily follow."
"She would go; and I tell you I could not get along without her, either."
Mr. Wattles always spoke of Miss March with an awkward, embarrassed air that puzzled Al.
"But, of course," he continued, hastily, "you do not mean what you said. Remember, you promised me——"
"I never went back on my word yet," interrupted Al, "and I shall not now. But I wish these public demonstrations would cease. They seem to me ridiculous, and they annoy me a good deal more than you seem to think."
"Well, you are the queerest press agent I ever struck," said the manager. "However, I guess you won't be much bothered—after to-night."
"Eh?" cried Al. "After to-night? What do you mean by that? What is to be done to-night?"
"Oh, nothing in particular. I ought not to have mentioned it."