Neither Mrs. Hadley nor Dorothy shared the young man’s enthusiasm; they were both thinking how lonely it would be for them, with him away for such a long time.
“And how long will you be gone?” asked Mrs. Hadley, making a supreme effort to hide her dismay.
“I don’t know. This says a letter follows.”
“I wonder whether you start right from here.”
“Probably,” answered John, “or they would hardly have telegraphed.”
“Will this—” began Dorothy, hesitating for a second—“will this mean that our house-party has to be given up?”
“Certainly not!” replied John. “I’ll surely be back by September, and even if I weren’t, it would be all right to have it without me.”
Neither woman said anything further; but Dorothy noticed that Mrs. Hadley gave up all idea of writing the invitation, for the time being, at least. Somehow, the house-party would seem flat without the presence of its originator, and neither of the others cared to press it. They busied themselves with the supper, and with the inspection of John’s clothing, to be in readiness for the hasty summons that would probably come late that night.
Mrs. Hadley had already gone to bed when John received his special delivery letter. He and Dorothy had been sitting in the little parlor, reading a story aloud, when the messenger arrived. The girl watched him quietly as he perused its contents. First she noticed a slight frown on his face; but a moment later this was replaced by an ecstatic smile. John Hadley had wonderful news!
“By George!” he cried, handing the letter to his companion, “I’m to see her! To go to California first, and stop on my way back at the Hilton ranch, near Bailey, Wyoming, to deliver a radio to the Girl Scouts, and set it up. Oh, did you ever hear of such luck? It sounds like the Arabian Nights!”