"Is that all, Mr. Clarke?" he asked of his employer.
"Yes. I'll see what can be done with these plans. In the meanwhile you
try to keep the girls satisfied until the new foreman comes. By the way I
expect you'd better stay on here to-night."
Dan paused with his hand on the door-knob. "Yes, sir," he said in evident
embarrassment, "but if you don't mind--I 'd like to get off for a couple
of hours this afternoon."
"Who's the girl, Dan?" asked Mac, but Dan did not stop to answer.
As he hurried down the hall, a boy appeared from around the corner and
beckoned to him with a mysterious grin.
"Somebody's waiting for you down in the yard."
"Who is he?"
"'T ain't a he. It's the prettiest girl you ever seen!"
Dan, whose thoughts for weeks had been completely filled with one
feminine image, sprang to the window. But the tall, stylish person
enveloped in a white veil, who was waiting below, in no remote way
suggested Nance Molloy.
A call from a lady was a new experience, and a lively curiosity seized
him as he descended the steps, turning down his shirt sleeves as he went.
As he stepped into the yard, the girl turned toward him with a quick,
nervous movement.
"Hello, Daniel!" she said, her full red lips curving into a smile. "Don't
remember me, do you?"
"Sure, I do. It's Birdie Smelts."
"Good boy! Only now it's Birdie La Rue. That's my stage name, you know. I
blew into town Thursday with 'The Rag Time Follies.' Say, Dan, you used
to be a good friend of mine, didn't you?"
Dan had no recollection of ever having been noticed by Birdie, except on
that one occasion when he had taken her and Nance to the skating-rink.
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