We won't want you for
half an hour."
As Kedzie left the scene she found Dyckman waiting for her. He
lifted his hat and spoke down at her:
"Pardon me, but you're Miss Adair, aren't you?"
"Yes," said Kedzie, with as much modesty as a queen could show,
incidentally noting that the man who bespoke her so timidly was
plainly a real swell. She was getting so now that she could tell
the real from the plated.
"I heard them murdering you in there and I--Well, Mrs. Cheever asked
me to look you up and see how you were getting along. I see you are."
"Mrs. Cheever!" said Kedzie, searching her memory. Then, with great
kindliness, "Oh yes! I remember her."
"You've forgotten me, I suppose. I had the pleasure--the sad pleasure
of helping you out of the water at Mrs. Noxon's."
"Oh, Lord, yes," Kedzie cried, forgetting her rank. "You're Jim
Dyckman--I mean, Mr. Dyckman."
"So you remember my name," he flushed. "Well, I must say!"
"I didn't remember to thank you," said Kedzie. "I was all damp and
mad. I've often thought of writing to you." And she had.
"I wish you had," said Dyckman. "Well, well!"
He didn't know what to say, and so he laughed and she laughed and
they were well acquainted. Then he thought of a good one.
"I pulled you out of the cold water, so it's your turn to pull me
out of the hot."
"What hot?" said Kedzie.
"I've been sent up here to learn the trade."
Kedzie had a horrible feeling that he must have lost his money.
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