tively. "You've got to save your money, Harold."
So they entered the rather uninviting depths of the hashery and were served a modest fare of ham and beans on a soiled tablecloth by a bored waiter wearing an apron that fairly cried out for the services of a laundry. Jane and Speedy had found newspapers in which to wrap their wet bathing suits and the extra chair at the table held the bundle. Just as they finished the rather unappetizing repast the hatchet-faced proprietor, who had been eyeing them from his position at the cashier's chair, stalked over with a frowning face that boded no good.
"Say," he growled, "you'll have to get them wet bathing suits out of here. They're dripping on my floor."
"A little water on your dirty floor will do it good," snapped Speedy, rising quickly to his feet and awaiting trouble.
The proprietor hesitated. "If you don't like this joint, you can get out of it," he said somewhat weakly.
"Without paying the check?" inquired Speedy. "Are you that anxious to get rid of us?"
"Oh, you can stay and finish your meal," the complainant backed down.
"Don't worry. We're through. And not even the pleasure of your company can keep us here." Speedy was feeling very jaunty at his success in subduing the querulous one. "Come on, Jane."
He slapped his money down with a flourish upon the desk in front of the hash-house man, who had resumed his cashier's seat.
