“No; everything's lovely. But say, Mr. Halloran, how about it?”
Halloran shook his head and would have hurried on.
“Pshaw, now; it wasn't no, was it?”
“Not exactly.”
“Well, say—then maybe it's all right.”
“It's nothing, Captain—worse than nothing.”
“You don't mean—you ain't telling me you've come back without either no or yes?”
Halloran made no answer. He simply wanted to get away.
“Mr. Halloran, I didn't think it of you; honest, I didn't. Say, now,” he reached down and caught hold of the bag, not heeding Halloran's protest, “let's step back this way. There hasn't a soul seen you—not a soul.” His eyes swept the street. “Just step along a little quicker. The early train 'll be pulling out before long, and you can pick up some breakfast at Reed City. I'd take you home with me—Jennie'd never peep—but I'm afraid some of the boys might be around when you come out, and anyhow you'd have to wait till the later train, and when you come to things like this time's worth saving. I guess prob'ly there's some other fellow hanging around down there these days and you've gone and given him a cool two days' start of you—you've just handed it to him. Now you get right back by the fastest train you can make. There's a good many things you know a heap more about than I do, but I guess maybe women ain't one of 'em.”
They reached the station, Halloran walking moodily without a word. At the edge of the platform he turned. “Captain, do you really think I ought to do it?”