A light of hope dawned in Patty's eyes.
"I'll tell you! We'll go and ask Mr. Gilroy to take us home in his automobile."
"Do you know him?" Conny asked dubiously. She had received so many affronts that she was growing timid.
"Yes! I know him intimately. He was under foot every minute during the Christmas vacation. We had a snow fight one day. Come on! He'll love to run us out. It will give him an excuse to make up with Jelly."
They passed up a narrow tarred walk toward the brick building labeled "Office." Four clerks and a typewriter girl in the outer office interrupted their work to laugh as the two apparitions appeared in the door. The young man nearest them whirled his chair around in order to get a better view.
"Hello, girls!" he said with cheerful familiarity. "Where'd you spring from?"
The typewriter, meanwhile, was making audible comments upon the discrepancies in Patty's hosiery.
Patty's face flushed darkly under the coffee.
"We have called to see Mr. Gilroy," she said with dignity.
"This is Mr. Gilroy's busy day," the young man grinned. "Wouldn't you rather talk to me?"