Then Dorothy was alone in the lunch house at 6:15 A. M.
CHAPTER VII
RUNNING A LUNCH COUNTER
For some minutes the absurdity of the situation scarcely dawned upon Dorothy. But the screeching of an approaching train promptly reminded her of her newly-acquired duties.
“Suppose the passengers should want papers,” she thought. “I had better look at the bundles.”
An old man thrust his face in under the wooden flap that was up in the day time, and put down at night.
“A good cup of coffee, and quick there!” he demanded. “I have got to get away ahead of that train.”
Dorothy turned to the big coffee urn, and for the first time noticed that there was a fire under it.
The next thing Dorothy did was to look at the man who had given her the first order at the improvised restaurant. He was smiling at her—a frank, pleasant smile, that had in it not the least suggestion of familiarity.
“Well?” he asked questioningly. “Did I startle you?”