“Don’t get so sore you rope an’ tie yourself. What did you say?”
“I asked you if you was goin’ to the dance at Bridewell.”
The stranger chuckled softly.
“Say, what’s eatin’ you, Whiskers?” snapped Jac, but without turning.
“Sure I’m going,” said Harry. “It’s going to be a big bust.”
“What girl are you takin’?”
“Nobody. I’ll find plenty to dance with when I get there.”
Jac blinked her eyes once, twice, and again.
“Why not take me?”
The cigarette fell from Harry’s lips.