Unwittingly she had appealed to the side of Doris most in sympathy with her bold plan. Doris had been born and bred to understanding and approval of adventure. “I understand the way you feel about it, Leslie,” she began. “If I were certain that—”
“Oh, forget that I mentioned dressing up to you!” Leslie exclaimed with savage impatience. “You’ve said more than once that you’d be pleased to do anything you could for me, at any time. I thought you would help me a little to play this joke on Prigville. Never mind. I’ll ask only one thing of you. If you should happen to recognize me on the night of the haytime hobble, kindly don’t publish it among the prigs.”
“Leslie.” Doris put dignified reproach into the response. “You know I would never betray you. I’m perfectly willing to help you carry out your plan, provided there’s no danger to either of us in it.”
“Danger of what?” came the sarcastic question. “No danger to you. Let me do a little supposing. Suppose we went together to the gym; you as a maid, and I as your swain. Suppose I failed to make a get-away and was unmasked by a bunch of smart Alecs. I’d probably not be near you when the signal came to unmask. I’d not bother you after the grand march. There’d be so many hey Rubes in the gym no one would remember our coming in together. That lets you out, doesn’t it? You should falter. Have a heart, Goldie!” Leslie had grown satirically persuasive.
Doris sat studying the situation in silence. She had colored afresh at Leslie’s pointed inference that she was more concerned for her own security from possible mishap at the romp than for that of Leslie herself. She hated the sarcastic reminder flung at her by Leslie that she had promised a favor on demand and was now not willing to keep her word. As Leslie had presented the situation to her there could be no risk to her. Leslie was more than able to look out for her own interests. To help Leslie now meant not only the keeping of her promise. It was a singularly easy way of keeping it.
“I’d rather you’d turn me down now than next year,” Leslie sneered as Doris continued silent.
“I’ll help you, Leslie.” Doris spoke stiffly, ignoring her disgruntled companion’s sneer.
“Come again.” Leslie cupped an ear with her hand, mockery in the gesture, but triumph in her small dark eyes.
“I said I would help you.” Doris repeated her first statement in an even stiffer tone. She would not permit Leslie to break down her poise.
“Good for you. You won’t be sorry. Help me to put over this stunt on Prigville and I’ll give you the Dazzler for your own.” Leslie was buoyantly generous in her delight at having gained her own way.