“Dear me! How much you think of the inner man, Amy,” sighed Jessie.
“Don’t talk so wildly,” admonished her chum. “It is the inner girl I am thinking of, I assure you. Wait till I run and get my purse,” she added. “I don’t want to lead you into the Dainties Shop again without being well supplied with cash.”
They went to the radio place first, and after seeing the buzzer tried out, Jessie bought one. She was always on the lookout for improved parts for her set. Daddy Norwood laughingly said that it cost as much to keep Jessie’s radio up to date as it did to support their two automobiles.
That, however, was “stretching the point” a good deal. Nor need one have as expensive a set as Jessie Norwood had, or as many expensive parts, if the enthusiast is limited in capital.
“If Monty Shannon can get a whole big set for fifteen dollars,” Amy observed as they left the Brill store, “almost anybody might become a radioite.”
Jessie sighed. “I am worried about that,” she confessed. “When we go over to Dogtown to-night we must try to get that boy to tell us how he got money for his set.”
“I’ve asked him already,” Amy said. “But he is foxy. There is something mysterious about it, that is sure.”
The girls went along to the Dainties Shop of which Amy, at least, was a very good patron. She hurried ahead and, had she not been so quick in running down the steps into the place, Jessie would have held back.
“Oh, Amy!” the latter murmured. “There’s Belle and Sally.”
But Amy had pushed open the screen door. “Come on!” she whispered fiercely, looking back at her chum. “I won’t back out now.”