' how easy I was gettin' out of it, I has
to pile on the agony a little by addin', "Ain't there some way I can be
useful, though? No errands you want done, or any place you'd like to be
towed around to, eh?"

"Why--why----" says she, hesitatin'. "Oh, but I couldn't think of
troubling you, you know."

"Why not?" says I, gettin' reckless. "Just remember that I'd be tickled
to death, any time you push the button."

"We-e-ell," says she, "we were just wishing, Miss Stover and I, that we
did have some gentleman friend who would----"

"Count me in," says I. "What's the game? Trip to Woodlawn Cemetery some
day, or do you want to be piloted up to Grant's Tomb?"

No, it wa'n't either of them festive splurges she had in mind. They
wanted a dinner escort for that evenin', she and Miss Stover. The other
lady, she goes on to say, is a school teacher from up Boston way, that
she'd made friends with durin' the summer. Miss Stover was takin' a year
off, for the benefit of her nerves, and before she sailed on her Cook's
trip abroad she thought she'd like to see a little of New York. They'd
been tryin' to knock around some alone, and had got along all right
daytimes, but hadn't dared venture out much at night. So if I wanted to
be real generous, and it wouldn't be too much of a bore, they'd be very
thankful if I would----

"In a minute," says I and, seein' I was up against it anyhow, I thought I
might as well do it cheerful. "I'll be up about six, eh?"

"Chee!" says Swifty Joe, who always has his ear stretched out on such
occasions, "you make a noise like you was fixin' up a date."

"What good hearin' you have, Swifty!" says I. "Some day, though, you'll
strain one of them side flaps of yours. Yes, this is a date, and it's
with two of the sportiest female parties that ever dodged an old ladies'
home."

Excitin' proposition, wa'n't it? I spends the next half-hour battin' my
head to think of some first class food parlor where I could cart a couple
like this Boston schoolma'am and Cousin Cornelia without shockin' 'em.
There was the Martha Washington; but I knew I'd be barred there. Also
there was some quiet fam'ly hotels I'd heard of up town; but I couldn't
remember exactly what street any of 'em was on.

"Maybe Cornelia will have some plans of her own," thinks I, as I gets
into my silk faced dinner jacket and V-cut vest. "And I hope she ain't
wearin' more'n two thicknesses of crape veil now."

Well, soon after six I slides out,