cornful to see who it is that dares butt in on her
presence. All the way she recognizes him is by a little lift of the
eyebrows.

I don't need to hear the dialogue. I can tell by her expression what
Daggett is saying. First there's a kind of condescendin' curiosity as he
begins, then she looks bored and turns back to the mirror, and pretty
soon she sings out, "What's that?" so you could hear her all over the
shop. Then Daggett springs his proposition flat.

"Sir!" says she, jumpin' up and glarin' at him.

Daggett tries to soothe her down; but it's no go.

"Mr. Heinmuller!" she calls out, and the boss barber comes steppin' over,
leavin' a customer with his face muffled in a hot towel. "This person,"
she goes on, "is insulting!"

"Hey?" says Heinmuller, puffin' out his cheeks. "Vos iss dot?"

And for a minute it looked like I'd have to jump in and save Daggett from
being chucked through the window. I was just preparin' to grab the boss
by the collar, too, when Daggett gets in his fine work. Slippin' a ten
off his roll, he passes it to Heinmuller, while he explains that all he
asked of the lady was to try on a hat he was thinkin' of gettin' for his
wife.

"That's all," says he. "No insult intended. And of course I expect to
make it worth while for the young lady."

I don't know whether it was the smooth "young lady" business, or the
sight of the fat roll that turned the trick; but the tragedy is declared
off. Inside of three minutes the boss tells Daggett that Miss Rooney
accepts his apology and consents to go if he'll call a cab.

"Why, surely," says he. "You'll come along, too, won't you, McCabe?
Honest, now, I wouldn't dare do this alone."

"Too bad about that shy, retirin' disposition of yours!" says I. "Afraid
she'll steal you, eh?"

But he hangs onto my sleeve and coaxes me until I give in. And we sure
made a fine trio ridin' up Fifth-ave. in a taxi! But you should have seen
'em in the millinery shop as we sails in with Miss Rooney, and Daggett
says how he'd like a view of that heliotrope lid in the window. We had
'em guessin', all right.

Then they gets Miss Rooney in a chair before the mirror, and fits the
monstrosity on top of her red hair. Well, say, what a diff'rence it does
make in them freak bonnets whether they're in a box or on the right head!
For Miss Rooney has got just the right kind of a face that hat was built
to go with. It's a bit giddy, I'll admit; but she's a stunner in it. And
does s