“And for a very good reason,” said Tom, slowing to a stop before the Cheslow hotel. “When I got home from your house last night, Ruthie, I found Lasses still parked on the paternal doorstep. By the time I had succeeded in running him off the premises by the nape of his neck——”
“Oh, you did not!” Helen interrupted indignantly. “I’d like to see you!”
“By the time I had succeeded in kicking him out,” Tom went on imperturbably, “he and my kid sister——”
“Kid sister!” interjected Helen, still indignant. “When we are twins!”
“Had decided that Chess was to go along. Ah,” with a welcoming tooting of the horn, “if I am not very much mistaken, here comes our good old friend Lasses in the flesh.”
The fact of it was that there was a man in Seattle who Chess thought it would be good business to see personally. If he could win over this man, who was really quite a personage in the world of finance, to a favorable consideration of the business proposition Chess had to lay before him, the young fellow felt, and with justice, that the expenses of this trip and of many others like it would be more than offset by the making of this valuable new connection. Of course, there was no reason at all why Chess should go on to Alaska with his friends, except a natural desire to have one last holiday with Helen before they married and “settled down.”
Chess carried two suitcases which he declared would serve him bountifully on the trip.
“All I need is a change or two,” he declared optimistically, as he flung the grips into the tonneau, narrowly escaping Helen’s feet. “Plenty for an unpretentious young fellow like me!”
“You talk as if you were only crossing over the state line,” Helen retorted. “This is no overnight journey, I’ll have you know, Chess Copley. Seattle is many, many miles away from here.”
“To say nothing of the Yukon,” added Tom, as he swung the car about in the direction of the station.