Funny! If
two strange women had found themselves occupying the same room for a
night they wouldn't have got to the kimono and back hair stage before
they would not only have known each other's name, but they'd have
tried on each other's hats, swapped corset cover patterns, found
mutual friends living in Dayton, Ohio, taught each other a new Irish
crochet stitch, showed their family photographs, told how their
married sister's little girl nearly died with swollen glands, and
divided off the mirror into two sections to paste their newly washed
handkerchiefs on. Don't tell _me_ men have a genius for friendship."
"Well, who is he?" insisted Ed Meyers. "He told me everything but his
name this morning. I wish I had throttled him with a bunch of Bisons'
badges last night."
"His name," smiled Emma McChesney, "is Jock McChesney. He's my one and
only son, and he's put through his first little business deal this
morning just to show his mother that he can be a help to his folks if
he wants to. Now, Ed Meyers, if you're going to have apoplexy don't
you go and have it around this table.
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