negligently against the cashier's desk. Rather doubtfully I glanced
uneasily up and down the deserted street, and then aside into the still
averted face of my chance companion. I had no desire she should
comprehend my dilemma.

"Would you mind waiting out here on the step a moment?" I questioned
awkwardly, attempting to explain. "Only until I make sure who are
inside. There are some fellows I am not friendly with, and I am not
hunting a rough house with a girl to look after. You won't care for
just a minute, will you?"

"No," wearily, "I won't mind."

"You 'll promise not to go away?"

She shook her head, her eyes staring dully into the mist.

"No; I won't go away. Where could I go?"

Scarcely satisfied, yet feeling obliged to take the chance, I stepped
within, and advanced across the room toward the man at the cashier's
desk. He glanced up curiously as I approached, and spoke low, so as
not to attract the attention of others.

"Pardner, is my credit good for two meals?" I asked genially. "I guess
you 've seen me in here before--I drive for the Wooster Lumber
Company." A night cashier in that neighborhood becomes early
habituated to tales of hard luck. It requires but a few lessons to
render suspicion paramount. The round-faced man, all geniality
vanished, stared directly into my face.