To him came the girl
of whom he was thinking. "Hello, Fluff," he said from the shadows.
"Hello, Black Bill," she greeted him. "Where's Virgie?"
"Gone," he informed her, waving his pipe. "On a case to Las Estrellas.
I'm waiting for her. Did you want to see her?"
Florrie, coming down the veranda to him, giggled.
"No," she told him flippantly. "I'm looking for the Emperor of China.
I never was so lonesome. . . ."
"So'm I," said Elmer. He pushed a chair forward with his foot. "Sit
down and we'll wait for her. And I'll go in and bring out a couple of
bottles of ginger ale or something."
"Will she be back real soon?" asked Florrie pretending to hesitate.
"Sure," he assured her positively.
"All right then." Florrie with a great rustling of skirts sat down.
"But you must be nice to me, Black Bill."
"It's always you who starts it," he muttered at her. "I'd be friends
if you would. What's the good of spatting like two kids, anyway?"
"We're really not kids any longer, are we?" she agreed demurely. "I
feel terribly grown up sometimes, don't you?"
From which point they got along swimmingly for perhaps five minutes
longer than it had ever been possible for them to talk together without
"starting something." Elmer, very emphatic in his own mind concerning
his matured status, yearned for her to understand it as he did.
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