"Well, mebby," admitted the cub. "Say: that was one fine girl you was talkin' to, all right," he grinned.
Hopalong studied him a moment. "Not meanin' no offense, what's yore name?"
"Sammy Porter; why?"
"Well, Sammy," remarked Hopalong as he arose. "I reckon we 'll meet again before I leave. You was remarkin' she was a fine girl. I admit it; she was. So long," and he started for the door.
Sammy flushed. "Why, I—I didn't mean nothin'!" he exclaimed. "I just happened to think about her—that's all! You know, I saw you talkin' to her. Of course, you saw her first," he explained.
Hopalong turned and smiled kindly. "You did n't say nothin' to offend me. I was just startin' when you spoke. But as long as you mentioned it I 'll say that my interest in th' lady was only brief. Her interest in me was th' same. Beyond lettin' you know that I 'll add that I don't generally discuss wimmin. I 'll see you later,"