Lida knew that the drive master was having hard work to digest the information she had given him.
“They are standing up straight and are honest old chaps,” he went on. He was looking into her eyes and his calm voice had a musing tone. “I like to call them my friends.”
He was trying hard to down the queer notions that were popping up. He would not admit that he was suspecting this girl of deceit. But she was so manifestly not what she claimed that she was! Still, there were reverses that might——
“I am alone in a strange land—nobody to back my word about myself. I must call on a reliable witness. You know the witness.” She put up her hand and touched her hat. Then came laughter—first from her and then from Latisan—to relieve the situation. “You saw me wearing it more than six months ago. What better proof of my humble position in life do you want?”
“I don’t dare to tell you what you ought to be, Miss——”
“Patsy Jones,” she returned, glibly; his quest for her name could not be disregarded.
“But what you are right now is good enough because it’s honest work.”
“Do you think I can get the job?”
“I am a witness of Martin Brophy’s standing offer to give one thousand dollars for a table girl who won’t get homesick or get married.”
“Take me in and collect the reward, Mr. Latisan. I’m a safe proposition, both ways.”