“Not exactly,” was her answer. “That is—well, I’m not really used to this sort of work, and——”
“You don’t know how to run that machine—isn’t that it?” he asked, nodding brightly. “Confess now, that you don’t know how to get coffee out of it.”
“That’s it,” said Dorothy with an air of relief that he had divined her trouble. “There are so many attachments to it that I really don’t know which one to turn to get the coffee out.”
“In the first place,” spoke the man, “is there coffee in it?”
“I think so.”
“I mean coffee with water on it—coffee to drink?”
“Yes, the young lady who runs it, and who had to get off in a hurry to deliver a message, said so.”
“Good! That’s one point solved. Now then, there is no question but what the coffee is hot. I can see the alcohol flame under it. The next thing is how to get it out.”
“I believe so,” agreed Dorothy with a smile. “Suppose I turn this faucet.”
“No, don’t!” cried the man suddenly. “It may not be the right one, and you might scald yourself. Let me come in and maybe I can find the right thing to twist.”