“Good ride!” chaffed Embury. “Don’t you fool yourself, Aunt Abby! The ride from this burg to Newark, N.J., is just about the most Godforsaken bit of scenery you ever passed through!”
“I don’t mind that. Al Hendricks is good company, and, any way, I’d go through fire and water to see that Hanlon show. Eunice, can’t you and Mr. Hendricks pick me up? I want to go to my Psychic Class this morning, and there’s no use coming way back here again.”
“Yes, certainly; we’re going about noon, you know, and have lunch in Newark.”
“In Newark!” and Embury looked his amazement.
“Yes; Alvord said so last night. He says that new hotel there is quite all right. We’ll only have time for a bite, anyway.”
“Well, bite where you like. By the way, my Tiger girl, you didn’t get that information from our friend last evening.”
“No, San, I couldn’t, without making it too pointed. I thought I could bring it in more casually to-day—say, at luncheon.”
“Yes; that’s good. But find out, Eunice, just where the Merediths stand. They may swing the whole vote.”
“What vote?” asked Aunt Abby, who was interested in everything.
“Our club, Auntie,” and Embury explained. “You know Hendricks is president—has been for years—and we’re trying to oust him in favor of yours truly.”