"Sit there yourself," she commanded Bean. And Bean sat there beside the flapper, with Nap between them. The car moved gently on under the gaze of the impressed Cassidy, who had clattered up the iron stairway. Cassidy's gaze seemed to say, "All right, me lad, but you want t' look out f'r that sort. I know th' kind well!"
The car was moving swiftly now, heading for the north and the open.
"They cut us off yesterday," said the flapper. "I know I shall simply make a lot of trouble for that operator some day."
He wondered if she had heard that mad "Chubbins!" But now the flapper smiled upon him with a wondrous content, and he could say nothing. Instead of talking he stroked the head of Nap, who was panting with the excitement of this celestial adventure.
"I like you in that," confided the flapper with an approving glance. He wondered if she meant the hat, the cravat or America's very best suit for the money.
"I like you in that," he retorted with equal vagueness, at last stung to speech.
"Oh, this!" explained the flapper in pleased deprecation. "It's just a little old rag. What's his darling name?"
"Eh? Name? Napoleon, Man and—I mean Napoleon. I call him Nap," he said shortly, feeling himself in chameleon-like sympathy with the cravat.
Grandma, on the seat in front of them, stared
