“Not very much?”
He sat up and drew out a handful of bills. “Here—say I give you twenty-five. That 'll see you through, won't it?”
“Oh, yes, Joe.”
She was decidedly pretty now. Her weak face was alive with eagerness, her eyes were dancing. And McGlory, as he looked at her, seemed to feel something approaching a thrill.
There they sat, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, until the brush parted and Dick stood over them.
“Well, Mr. Man,” said he, “I hope you're passing a pleasant afternoon with your friend.”
Estelle got to her feet first.
“We thought maybe you'd spend a few minutes with us to-day,” continued Dick. “You see we can't stay very long.”
“Who're you talking to?” growled the mate.
“I'm a-looking right at you.”