"How do you do, Mrs. Farwell?" Frank shook hands hurriedly and turned to Lois.
"Isn't this bully luck? Gee, I'm glad to see you!" he said, eagerly.
Bob looked in admiration. He wished he had Frank's courage. Why he couldn't even kiss his mother and Lois in public, without blushing, and as for Polly, well, he would have to wait until they were alone before he could tell her how glad he was to see her. But he comforted himself with the thought that he'd be more artistic about it when the time came than Frank had been.
They found their hotel, the same one they had stayed at on their first memorable trip to Boston, and Mrs. Farwell, tired out from her strenuous afternoon, ordered tea at once.
Lois and Frank sat down on a sofa at one end of the room, and Frank explained how Bob had wired him to meet him.
"Of course, I came," he said.
"You are not in the game to-morrow?" Mrs. Farwell asked from behind the tea urn.
"No, worse luck," Frank told her. "I'm only a sub; of course, there's a chance; I may be needed."
"But if you're a sub, how did you manage to get here?" Polly inquired.
"Oh, I managed that all right. I won't break training, though I'm tempted to." He eyed the tea cakes longingly, "and I'll be on hand to-morrow. So that's all right. It's awfully jolly of you people to ask me," he smiled, engagingly, at Mrs. Farwell.