tforwardness of his
age, he suddenly seized his damsel cousin from the rear and held her in
a tight but far from affectionate embrace, pinioning her arms. She
shrieked, "Murder!" and "Let me go!" and "Help! Hay-yulp!"
"Look in her pocket," Herbert shouted. "She keeps her money in her skirt
pocket when she's got any. It's on the left side of her. Don't let her
kick you! Look out!"
"I got it!" said the dexterous Henry, retreating and exhibiting coins.
"It's one dime and two nickels--twenty cents. Has she got any more
pockets?"
"No, I haven't!" Florence fiercely informed him, as Herbert released
her. "And I guess you better hand that money back if you don't want to
be arrested for stealing!"
But Henry was unmoved. "Twenty cents," he said calculatingly. "Well, all
right; it isn't much, but you can have your poem in our newspaper for
twenty cents, Florence. If you don't want to pay that much, why, take
your ole twenty cents and go on away."
"Yes," said Herbert. "That's as cheap as we'll do it, Florence. Take it
or leave it."
"Take it or leave it," Henry Rooter agreed. "That's the way to talk to
her; take it or leave it, Florence. If you don't take it you got to
leave it."
Florence was indignant, but she decided to take it. "All right," she
said coldly. "I wouldn't pay another cent if I died for it."
"Well, you haven't got another cent, so that's all right," Mr. Rooter
remarked; and he honourably extended an open palm toward his partner.
"Here, Herbert; you can have the dime, or the two nickels, whichever you
rather. It makes no difference to me; I'd as soon have one as the
other."
Herbert took the two nickels, and turned to Florence. "See here,
Florence," he said, in a tone of strong complaint. "This business is all
done and paid for now. What you want to hang around here any _more_
for?"
"Yes, Florence," his partner faithfully seconded him, at once. "We
haven't got any more time to waste around here to-day, and so what you
want to stand around in the way and everything for? You ought to know
yourself we don't want you."
"I'm not in the way," said Florence hotly. "Whose way am I in?"
"Well, anyhow, if you don't go," Herbert informed her, "we'll carry you
downstairs and lock you out."
"I'd just like to see you!" she returned, her eyes flashing. "Just you
dare to lay a finger on me again!" And she added, "Anyway, if you did,
those ole doors haven't got any lock on 'em: I'll come right back in and
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