“She’s beautiful,” said Flo, “especially when she’s angry. That girl ought to be in advertising. She’s just the unspoiled type of beauty we’re looking for. Of course, she ought to do something about her hair.”
“Shampoo it with golden hair wash, I suppose? Please, Flo, don’t try to make her over,” Irene pleaded. “She’s in enough trouble as it is.”
“It looks as if the cashier is going to win the argument,” observed Judy. “I feel sorry for the girl if he really is trying to cheat her.”
“More likely she’s trying to cheat him. She could be putting on an act,” declared Pauline. “There, I told you so. Now she’s turned on the tears.”
In a moment the weeping country girl was surrounded by a little knot of concerned people who had left their tables to try and settle the matter. As they pressed toward him the cashier flung open the cash drawer.
“You see!” he pointed out. “There’s no twenty! I haven’t changed a twenty-dollar bill all day. She’s made a mistake—”
“I did not,” the girl retorted tearfully. “I know what I gave you. It was a twenty. Now I don’t have money enough for my fare home.”
“Where do you live?” he asked as if concerned.
“If I tell you, will you give me my nineteen dollars?”
“No!” he snapped. “You can’t get away with a trick like that.”