“Perhaps Joe is on his way here,” said I. “If so, Good-Night!” As I spoke, I wondered rather anxiously what the other telegram could be.
“Well, we saw her, anyway!” said Whitney, “and she's marvellous! She wears a blue tam-o' shanter and has an ankle like a fairy tale. We saw her walk down the street.”
“That's nothing,” I retorted, “I saw her hours ago. She was on the train with us from Birmingham this morning.”
This started a furious wrangle. They said I hadn't played fair, as the contest didn't begin until two o'clock. My point was that I had not transgressed the rules as I had done nothing to profit by my accident in seeing her first.
“I couldn't help seeing her, could I?” I asked. “You could have, too, if you hadn't been all frowsting over Tit-Bits in the train. And after all, I didn't know it was Kathleen. I only suspected it.”
I changed the conversation by asking where the Goblin was.
No one had noticed before that he hadn't turned up. This was a bit disconcerting. I secretly thought him the most dangerous competitor. He has a quiet, impish twinkle in his eye, and an unobtrusive way of getting what he wants. However, the others scoffed at my fears.
Although they all talked a great deal about the amusing time they had had, I could not gather that they had really accomplished much. Forbes claimed to have seen Fred, and said he looked like a rotter. We drank Kathleen's health a couple of times, and then the other three sat down to dummy bridge. I slipped away to the Public Library, partly to get some more of my antiquarian information about Wolverhampton, and partly because I knew my absence would disquiet them.
I found the Library after some difficulty. In the large reading-room I hunted up some books of reference, but to my disappointment Mr. Kent's volume was out. Looking round for a place to sit, the first person I saw was the Goblin, bent very busily over a book and making notes on a pad of paper. I leaned over him.
“Hello, Goblin,” I whispered. “Getting ready for a First?”