it was Carter whom he thought he would be doing business with," said Donaldson.
Pop got his hat.
"Like to come along, young folks?" he asked amiably, as if inviting his granddaughter and his young friend into rich men's limousines were an every-day occurrence for him. Pop was already sitting on top of the world, and looked it.
Speedy suddenly remembered something—something that would keep him there alone with Jane.
"Gosh, I can't go. I've left Nellie and the car out there in front of the house," cried Speedy. "But you go, Jane."
"No, I'll help you unhitch and feed Nellie," said Jane, smiling sweetly at him in recognition of his strategy.
As he walked out behind Mr. Donaldson, Pop, his hat set rakishly on his gray head, winked slowly.
When the front door closed behind the two others, Speedy abruptly took Jane in his arms and kissed her. She blushed happily.
"To think of that Carter shoving you into a closet. Why, you might have starved," he declared indignantly.
"I wasn't worried. I knew you'd come," declared Jane, still blushing from his caress. As he made a move to repeat the kiss, she pushed him gently away. "Come on, Harold, Nellie will be getting cold. She's had a strenuous day. She deserves her supper."
When they approached the car, they saw that someone—probably Mertz, the florist—had filled
