"But you ain'd here," said the perplexed young man, getting pinker all the time. "You're aroundt in Sickle Street."
"Alf!" called out Anderson. "Look here a minute. Is this me?" He spoke with biting sarcasm.
Mr. Reesling regarded him with some anxiety.
"You better go home, Anderson," he said. "This sun is a derned sight hotter'n you think."
"Didn't we see you a minute ago around in Sickle Street, Pop?" inquired Susie. "Looking in that hair-dresser's window?"
"Maybe you did and maybe you didn't," replied Mr. Crow, shrewdly. Then, with thinly veiled significance: "I'm purty busy lookin' into a good many things nowadays." He favoured Otto with a penetrating glance. "Ever sence the U. S. A. declared war on Germany, Mr. Otto Schultz."
"How aboudt that sody, Miss Susie?" said Otto, in a pained sort of voice.
"You'd better be saving your money, Otto," she advised, with such firmness that her father looked at her sharply.
"Oh, spiffles!" said Otto, getting still redder.
Mr. Crow was all ears. Alf Reesling burned his fingers on a match he held too long in the hot, still air some six or eight inches from the bowl of his pipe.