“Oh, that was nothing,” returned the other.
“But it might have been a great deal. Mr. Brewster will wish to thank you in person—”
“Aw, forget it!” besought Mr. Thomas Cluff. “That little lady is all right. I’d just as soon eat an ambassador, let alone a gilt-framed secretary, to help her out.”
“Miss Brewster,” said the other, somewhat more stiffly, “is a wholly admirable young lady, but she is not always well advised in going out unescorted. By the way, you can doubtless confirm the rumor as to the identity of her insulter.”
“His name is Von Plaanden. But I don’t think he meant to insult any one.”
“You will permit me to be the best judge of that.”
“Go as far as you like,” asserted the big fellow cheerfully. “That fellow Perkins can tell you more about the start of the thing than I can.”
“From what I hear, he has no cause to be proud of his part in the matter,” said the Southerner, frowning.
“He’s sure a prompt little runner,” asserted Cluff. “But I’ve run away in my time, and glad of the chance.”
“You will excuse me from sympathizing with your standards.”