“Where is Pen?” Mrs. Kingdon was finally permitted to ask.
“She didn’t come with us,” said Kurt, grimly enjoying Hebler’s quick attention. The children had been previously and carefully coached to make no mention of Pen’s departure.
He made an excuse to leave the hotel parlor and went down to the office.
“Is there an aviator registered here?” he asked the clerk.
“Sure there is,” replied the clerk proudly. “Larry Lamont. Some flier, too. He’s going over to France soon—into the French service.”
Lamont! Kurt turned a little pale. “Is he here now?”
“His things are here, but he’s out with his aeroplane somewhere.”
Kurt breathed a little easier and resolved to remain at the hotel until the aviator should return.
When the rest of the party came through the office on their way to the dining-room, Francis lagged behind and handed Kurt a letter which the latter abstractedly slipped into his pocket.
At dinner he was seated at the end of the table farthest removed from Mrs. Kingdon, so he had no opportunity for a word with her in regard to Pen. As they were going out from dinner she called to him: