The big man bent over the child clumsily and tried to raise his quivering chin.
"Aw, now, Freddy," he coaxed, "wanna come out with me an'—an' have a soda?"
Freddy shook his head.
"Buy ya some candy, too. Choc'late drops! An' how about one o' them li'l airyplane toys I seen in the window down the street? Huh? Or some marbles? Huh? Freddy, le's go buy out this here dinky li'l ole town. What-ta ya say, huh? Le's paint this li'l ole town red! What-ta ya say, sport?"
Freddy managed a feeble smile.
"How come you so flush, Brudder Johnsing?" he asked in what he considered an imitation of darky talk. "Mus' 'a' bin rollin' dem bones!"
"Tha's a boy!" shouted Bert with a great guffaw. "There's a comeback for you! Game! Tha's what I always liked about you, Freddy. You was always game."
"I wanna be game!" said Freddy, stiffening his lips. "You tell
Florette. You write to her I was game. Will ya, Bert?"
A bell rang.
"Aw, I gotta go dress for supper, Bert. They dress up for supper here."