"Er—no—er—yes, of course," stuttered the youth.
"Nice evenin' for pictures," continued Bindle. thoroughly enjoying the situation. "Don't yer think so?" he added, as the youth did not reply.
"Yes, very."
"Now you an' me's ole pals, but I've quite forgot yer name. Is it 'Orace?"
"Dixon, Charlie Dixon." A faint smile flickered across the young man's face as he caught Millie's eye. He was beginning to realise that somewhere in this astonishing adventure there was fun, and that Bindle had been first to see it.
For some seconds Bindle, who was a shrewd judge of character, regarded the young man. He was obviously nervous, but his grey eyes looked out honestly from a rather pleasant face into those of Bindle.
Suddenly he laughed. Millie looked from one to the other, her pretty brows puckered. The situation was obviously beyond her.
"Uncle, I want to speak to you, please." Millie's voice was scarcely audible.
"All right, my dear, we'll go and buy the tickets. "You wait here, young feller," he added. "We'll be back in two ticks."
When out of earshot Millie whispered shyly, "That's Charlie Dixon, and we—we like each other, and I'm—I'm a wicked girl. Uncle Joe. I told him to be here and"
