Campbell, Senior, was away on a business trip, but Mrs. Campbell succeeded in making the dinner sufficiently impressive. She was a large woman with a heavy, double chin and a high, somewhat whining voice which she kept in constant use. Obviously she was much attached to Tracey, and Bassett could see with half a glance that her son could, by using his talents, persuade her to do almost anything for him.
"I suppose you two are great friends," she said to Bassett. "Every one likes Tracey."
"Oh, yes, we go around together a lot," said the Whirlwind with his most winning smile.
"And are you as athletic as Tracey is?" asked Mrs. Campbell.
"Well, you see, I've got flat feet," said Bassett in a tone that implied that if he were not so afflicted he would be captain of all the major sports in the school.
"You're on the first team now, I suppose, Tracey," said Mrs. Campbell.
"No," said Tracey, "they're still making me play with the scrub."
"Why?" demanded his mother, raising her shrill voice. "You told me two weeks ago that the coach was going to promote you. What happened, will you tell me?"
"They're not giving Tracey a fair show, Mrs. Campbell," declared Bassett. "The coach has a few favorites and he can't see anything that any one else does."
Mrs. Campbell let her fork fall into her plate with a clatter. "I'm going to see Doctor Wells about it!" she declared. "Such a condition is perfectly shameful! Why, it's—it's——"