“We’re too slow for him,” said Hervey. “Let’s climb up on the roof while we’re waiting.”
“Let’s not,” Brent said.
“Isn’t he the gallant little scout?” Warde said, laughing all the while.
“What do you suppose came over him?” said Brent.
“I guess he wants to show that he’s not a sharpy, that’s all I can make of it,” I said. “He didn’t lose much time. He’ll have four cents when he comes out.”
We all laughed, it seemed so funny. Then we all tiptoed up onto the porch and looked in through a window that was open. I could hardly keep a straight face to see him in there sitting at a table opposite that flapper. His feet were up on a cross-piece under the chair and he was studying the menu card with a terrible scowl on his face. One stocking was all screwed around from his grand flop.
The girl wasn’t any bigger than he was. Brent said she was a flapper in the chrysalis stage. He gave one look and turned away with his hand over his mouth.
Hervey said, “Shall I plug him with a pop-corn ball?”
“You keep the pop-corn in your pocket,” Brent whispered.
“Don’t spoil the show,” I said.