Marion turned around quickly and saw Bert Jackson running after her.
“Oh, Bert, I’m so glad to see you,” was her cordial answer. “We have a room at 228, do go right over. I’ll be back just as soon as I get something for supper.”
“I guess I will,” said Bert, quickly, “for I’m keeping pretty shady nowadays, Marion; I don’t dare stay in the street for fear Matt Jenkins may be after me.”
He ran over to the house and Marion hurried to the grocery. She was just coming out with her bread and milk when she came face to face with a half-drunken fellow.
“Ah there, my beauty,” said the fellow, impudently, as he caught sight of Marion. “Bless your pretty face. I’ve seen you somewhere before. Great Scott, but you’re a stunner. I’d like to kiss you.”
“How dare you!” cried Marion in a frightened voice. “Let me pass at once, sir, or I will call a policeman.”
The fellow drew back and Marion darted past him like a flash.
“Where in the world have I seen him?” she muttered to herself. “There’s something familiar about him, and yet I can’t place him.”