"Terrible!" she whispered. "What'll happen to the poor 'Kid'?"
"Death!" was his jovial rejoinder.
He caught her hand once more. "Don't, don't!" she warned him. He let go
as before, but she did not withdraw it immediately.
His glance grew bolder and bolder, but he hesitated. He busied himself
with his breakfast for a moment, shaking salt into his egg and stirring
it with a spoon. He looked up and hesitated again. Finally, he began:
"Then it'll be all right to-night?"
"To-night?"
"Yes. You said you'd tell me to-day."
"I know."
"It'll be all right?" he pleaded.
She eyed him a moment, softened a little and then gave in: "But where
can we go?"
"We can take in a show," he suggested.
"A show?"
"Yes!"
"Where?"
"Oh, Miner's, the Gran' or a movie."
She meditated.
"Hurry up! Here come some customers."
She turned her head quickly, and then looked back at him. "All right,"
she whispered.
"Where'll I meet you?" he demanded eagerly.
"At the old corner--eight o'clock!"
He pressed her hand in hurried understanding, as three young men entered
the dining room. They were Breen, Carstairs and Nielsen. Erna passed
them on her way out with a nervous "good-morning."
She stayed out some time. Jimmy ate and drank rapidly, got up, took his
check, put on his cap and coat, and ignoring the newcomers, left the
room. Breen and Nielsen had recognized him with amazement. They watched
him curiously, but not so Carstairs. He sat there, staring gloomily at
the table.