"Why, what a question!"
"Because, if you can't, it won't do me any good to wear a label."
"Dabney Kinzer!" exclaimed Jenny, "there's an other thing you ought to get."
"What's that?"
"Some good manners," said the little lady snappishly. "Think of your stopping me in the street to tell me I can't read!"
"Then you mustn't forget me so quick," said Dab. "If you meet my old clothes anywhere you must call them Dick Lee. They've had a change of name."
"So he's in them, is he? I don't doubt they look better than they ever did before."
Jenny walked away at once, at the end of that remark, holding her head pretty high, and leaving her old playmate feeling as if he had had a little the worst of it. That was often the way with people who stopped to talk with Jenny Walters, and she was not as much of a favorite as she otherwise might have been.
Dabney looked after her with his mouth puckered into shape for a whistle; but she had hardly disappeared before he found himself confronted by the strange young gentleman.
"Is your name Dabney Kinzer?"