“Must have,” said Laurie cheerfully. “Did you want it?”
“Did I—did I want— Say, for two pins I’d—”
“But, my dear old chap, how was I to know that you’d be wanting to ride it?” asked Laurie earnestly. “There it was, leaning against the steps, not earning its keep, and you hadn’t said a thing to me about wanting it, and so I just simply borrowed it. Honest, Elk, if you’d so much as hinted to me, never so delicately, that—”
There were titters from the younger members of the much interested audience and even unconcealed laughter from the older boys, and Elk’s dark countenance took on a deeper and more angry red as he thrust it close to Laurie’s.
“That’ll be about all for you,” he growled. “You’re one of these funny guys, aren’t you? Must have your little joke, eh? Well, see how you like this one!”
Elk raised his right hand, unclenched but formidable. An expectant hush filled the little store. Polly, with troubled eyes fixed on the drama, deluged a pineapple ice-cream with soda until it dripped on the counter below. Laurie continued to smile.
CHAPTER II
KEWPIE STATES HIS CASE
“Whatever’s going on?” asked a pleasant voice from the doorway that led into the room behind the shop. “Is—is anything wrong, Polly? Dear me, child, you’re running that all over the counter!”
More than two dozen pairs of eyes turned to where Mrs. Deane looked perplexedly about her. She was a sweet-faced little woman whose white hair was contradicted by a plump, unlined countenance and rosy cheeks. Elk’s uplifted arm dropped slowly back. For a short moment the silence continued. Then a veritable Babel of voices arose. “Hello, Mrs. Deane!” “Say, Mrs. Deane, don’t you remember me paying you ten cents last Friday? Miss Polly says I still owe—” “Mrs. Deane, when are you going to have some more of those twirly things with the cream filling?” “Mrs. Deane, will you wait on me, please? I want—” “Aw, I was ahead of him—”