That evening Dick and June sat talking in low tones on the hotel veranda.
“Buckhart,” said Dick, “has an uncle on a ranch up North, and we’re going up there. It was a great treat to meet you here, June.”
“It was fine, Dick,” she returned. “Oh, it was just splendid to watch the game to-day! It seemed like old times. We are leaving to-morrow.”
“Going back home?”
“Yes. Chester and I decided that we ought to go right away. I’m sorry we can’t all stay here a little longer, for it has been very pleasant—very pleasant——”
His hand found hers and held it tightly.
“It has been the pleasantest feature of my summer, June,” he declared.
In the shadows he lifted her hand to his lips.
“Till we meet again, June!” he whispered.