“If by ‘the main squeeze’ you mean Mr. Sammis,” she said, with dignity, “he is in his private office. Do you wish to see him?” “That’s what I came for--originally,” answered the young man, staring at her ardently, “but now that I’ve seen you, I’ve almost changed my mind. I hate to tear myself away from this spot. Say, kid, you make a big hit with me. I didn’t know there was anything so pretty in this vicinity. If I’d suspected it I’d have dropped in here long ago.” “What name shall I take in to Mr. Sammis?” inquired the girl coldly. “Gee, but you’re in a hurry to get rid of me!” said the visitor reproachfully. “Well, if you insist, you might tell the boss that Mr. Hines is here--Mr. Jake Hines.” As the girl arose and stepped into the private office at the rear of the store, Mr. Hines gazed after her trim, graceful figure admiringly. “Peach!” he said to himself. “I’m mighty glad I called. Even if I don’t sell any tickets here, my time won’t be wasted. If I ain’t taking this queen to Coney Island before another week has passed, I’m a dead one.” Dallas reappeared and told him that Mr. Sammis would see him immediately. With another ardent glance at her, Mr. Hines stepped into the private office. “Well, sir, what can I do for you?” inquired the real-estate broker, an elderly man with gray mutton-chop whiskers and a rather severe demeanor. “I’ve come to see how many tickets you’ll take for the annual chowder and outing of the Samuel J. Coggswell Association,” replied Hines. “Chowder!” repeated Mr. Sammis testily; “I don’t eat chowder, and I don’t attend outings; consequently I don’t want any tickets.” “Oh, yes, you do,” retorted Hines, his tone almost bullying. “You don’t have to go, yourself, if you don’t want to. You can buy the tickets and give ’em away to your friends. Boss Coggswell expects you to take at least five, Mr. Sammis. That’s the number all the other real-estate men in the district are takin’.” “I don’t care what others are doing, and I don’t care what Mr. Coggswell expects,” snapped Sammis. “I must ask you to get out of here at once, young man. This is my busy day.” “Oh, very well,” growled Hines, rising. “It don’t make no difference to me whether you take any tickets or not, my friend; but take it from me, it’s going to make a whole lot of difference to you. No man that’s interested in property in this district can afford to antagonize Boss Coggswell. You’ll be mighty sorry. There’s lots of ways we can make it unpleasant for you if you get gay with us.” He swaggered out of the private office, and, as he caught sight of Dallas Worthington at her typewriter, the scowl disappeared from his beefy face. “Say, bright eyes, how would you like to run down to the Island with me this evening?” he inquired, stepping up to her desk. “I wouldn’t like it at all,” she answered, without looking up from her work. “Stung!” he exclaimed ruefully. “May I ask why not?” “Oh, for several reasons.” “Give me one.”