"Get your wraps, Patty," he said, in low but distinct tones. "At once."
"What for?" and Patty stared at him in amazement. "What has happened?"
But she had no fear that any untoward accident had befallen, for Farnsworth showed no sympathy or gentleness in his face, merely a determined authority.
"Go at once," Farnsworth repeated, "and get your cloak."
"I won't do it," she replied, giving him an angry glance. "I don't want to go home; why should I get my cloak?"
"Then I'll take you without it," and picking her up in his arms, Big Bill strode through the throng of people, with as little embarrassment as if he were walking along the street. Many turned to look at him with curiosity, some smiled, but the Cosmic souls rarely allowed themselves to be surprised at anything, however peculiar.
As they passed Sam Blaney, Patty noticed that he stood, leaning against the wall, his arms folded, and a strange expression on his face,—half defiant, half afraid.
Farnsworth carried Patty down the stairs and out of the house, and placed her with care, but a bit unceremoniously, in the tonneau of a waiting motor-car. He jumped in beside her, and pulled the lap robe over her. The car started at once, and was well under way by the time Patty found voice enough to express her indignation.
"You—perfectly—horrid—old—thing!" she gasped, almost crying from sheer surprise and anger.
"Yes?" he said, and she detected laughter in his tone, which made her angrier than ever.