Grim, dirty, triumphant, Dick sought the carriage in which he had seen June standing. She stripped off her glove as she saw him coming and held out her warm, shapely hand.
“I’m covered with dirt,” he said.
But she would shake his hand, and she gave it a squeeze that he could not mistake.
“You did it!” she said.
“No,” he answered; “it was Darrell. Did you see his wonderful run?”
“I had not reached the ground, but I heard several say that you made it possible for him to get the touchdown. I was determined to see part of the game,” she went on hurriedly. “I’m glad you did not send that locket back. You know mother compelled me to write that note.”
“I thought so.”
“I hoped you would keep the locket. You must come to the hotel this evening and see her. There is no way out of it.”
“But how am I to keep the locket and remain a gentleman? She has even threatened to have me arrested.”
“She won’t do that. Come to the hotel to-night. She will see you, and I am expected to demand the return of the locket.”