“I mean it,” said Gilfoyle. “I am now on the staff of the Deshler Advertising Agency. I was afraid when Mr. D. offered me an unsolicited position (he could say it to-day) that it was the red wine and not the real money that was talking, but he was painfully sober this noon, took me out to lunch, and told me that he would be proud to avail himself of my services.”
“Splendid!” said Kedzie, with sincere enthusiasm. It is always pleasant to learn that money is setting toward the family.
But something told Kedzie that her late acquisition of twenty-five dollars would not be with her long. Easy come, easy go. “How much is the fare to Chicago?” she asked, in a hollow voice.
“Twenty-two dollars is the fare,” said Gilfoyle, “with about eight dollars extra. I couldn't borrow a cent. I've got only five dollars.”
“I thought so,” said Kedzie.
“Thought what so?” said Gilfoyle.
“Nothing,” said Kedzie. “Well, I happen to have twenty-five dollars.”
“That's funny,” said Gilfoyle. “Where did you get it?”
“Oh, I saved it up.”
“From what?”