“Say, bright eyes, how would you like to run down to the Island with me this evening?” he inquired, stepping up to her desk.
“I wouldn’t like it at all,” she answered, without looking up from her work.
“Stung!” he exclaimed ruefully. “May I ask why not?”
“Oh, for several reasons.”
“Give me one.”
“Well, for one thing,” she answered, glancing at him scornfully, “I’d be afraid, Mr. Hines, that on the way you might try to intimidate me into buying a ticket for the Coggswell Association’s outing.”
“Gee!” he said to himself, “she must have overheard what I said to her boss inside.”
Aloud he said earnestly: “You needn’t be afraid of that. I’d make you a present of all the tickets you want, honeybud. Tell me another reason why I can’t make a date with you.”
“Because I don’t make engagements with strangers,” said Dallas haughtily. “Please close the door as you go out.”
“It ain’t my fault that I’m a stranger,” said Mr. Hines plaintively, taking no notice of the hint. “I’m doin’ my best to get acquainted. Say, give it to me straight, little one—am I on a busy wire? Is there any other feller ahead of me?”