Refusing to hear any words of thanks, Arlington turned away, and Dale hastened back to June.
CHAPTER XIII.
JEALOUSY.
In spite of herself, June could not help wondering what had become of Dick. After dancing again with Dale, she listened to his suggestion that they should stroll out onto the veranda. There were other couples outside, and, having paused near a corner, June’s keen ears detected the sound of a faint familiar voice. Dick was near at hand, speaking earnestly with a girl.
“You know you can trust me, Bab,” he was saying. “The secret is safe. Have I ever failed you?”
“No, Dick,” was the answer. “You’re a dear good fellow. Really. I feel like hugging you.”
June’s hand closed convulsively on Dale’s arm, and she turned away. Sparkfair had caught a bit of this conversation, which was not intended for their ears, and, strangely enough, instead of feeling elated, he was seized by a sudden paroxysm of indignation toward Merriwell.
“Why, confound him for a scoundrel!” thought Spark. “I didn’t think it of him. He’s got another girl on the string, and there’s a secret between them. If I get a good opportunity, I’ll have to give him my opinion of his conduct.”
“Let’s walk down across the lawn, Dale,” said June, suddenly anxious to get away from the house. “I don’t think I’ll dance any more to-night.”
For the first time in his life Sparkfair, usually glib of tongue, was at a loss for words. He felt awkward and embarrassed, and every moment it seemed that his indignation toward Merriwell increased.
“You should be careful, June,” he finally said. “You are very warm, and your dress is thin. You may catch cold. You may get pneumonia.”