Jack Randall appeared in the door a few moments later. At the conclusion of the waltz Sparkfair excused himself and joined Randall. They moved way. Hanks leisurely turning to watch them.
“Here’s the money,” said Randall, slipping the roll into Dale’s hand. “Get that fellow out of here.”
“I’ll chase him out with great alacrity and unspeakable glee,” said Dale. “Leave it to me.”
But when he signalled for Hanks to follow him the intruder seemed utterly oblivious to his meaning. Dale was compelled to walk up to Hanks and speak to him in a low tone. This was precisely what Hanks wanted.
“Oh,” he said, “here you are, Spark, old chap, Didn’t know what had become of you.”
“I noticed that,” scoffed Dale. “You were looking right at me, but you didn’t see me. If you want to close that business, just stroll outside for a moment.”
Chester Arlington, having abandoned cigarettes, had wandered out onto the veranda to whiff a cigar. Lighting the weed, he was tempted to stroll down across the lawn, and finally seated himself in a shrub-sheltered arbor. Two minutes later two persons stopped near this arbor. They were Sparkfair and Hanks.
“So you succeeded in raising the wind, did you?” chuckled the latter.
“Yes, I succeeded in raising the wind,” answered Dale, “and, having done so, I expect you to fan the wind with your heels. Your room is much preferable to your company.”
“But I’m enjoying myself,” chuckled Hanks. “It’s really a jolly little party. I wouldn’t mind staying and joining the gay throng.”