“Get your check at the cashier’s desk, please,” said the clerk. “What’s yours, madam?”
Kendall discovered the cashier’s desk and pushed his half dollar across the ledge. “Five, ten or fifteen?” asked the young lady behind the grilling.
Kendall wavered. Then, “Ten, if you please,” he said, and a blue celluloid check was passed out and some change. Back at the counter he was forced to await his chance again. When it came it was another clerk who asked his order and Kendall passed over his blue check and said, “Root beer, please.”
“Two?”
“No, just one.”
“Root beer’s only five cents,” was the reply. “This is a ten cent check.”
“Oh,” Kendall stammered. “Then I—I’ll take a chocolate egg-and-milk, please.”
“That’s fifteen cents,” replied the clerk impatiently.
“Oh—er—er—ice-cream soda!” blurted Kendall.
“What flavor?”