"What do you say to a cup of coffee? And toast and eggs?"
"I am hungry," she confessed.
Over their breakfast in the little wayside restaurant, with its untidy tables and greasy lunch-counter, it was Gratton who did all of the talking. Gloria by now realized that she was downright sorry she had come. He seemed eager, his eyes very bright, his voice quick and vibrant with an electrical urge dominating. She wondered vaguely what made him seem "different."
"The waiter," she said as they finished, "is staring his head off at our clothes."
"We're going to remedy that matter. Come on; the stores are open."
"Fancy shopping here!" The thought made her laugh.
"Just the place for what we want. Khaki trousers and flannel shirt and boots for me; an outing-suit for you."
He took her arm and they walked the half-dozen doors to the dry-goods store.
"I haven't a cent with me——"
"Let me be your banker," he said lightly.