If it ever happened, I wondered about what point in the battle I could locate Mr. Pinkey Chalmers. The more he talked, the less I was sure of my pet belief in the divine right of the individual. Then my heart jumped; I saw Page Hanaford coming.
"The maid was unable to find the book I came for. She directed me here. Do I interrupt?" he asked on reaching us, bowing slightly and looking inquiringly from my frowning face to Pinkey Chalmers's wrathful one.
"Interrupt? No," said that youth. "Welcome to our prayer-meeting! I've planned a picnic and a sail for Zura and me to-night. This lady says it shall not be and I'm speculating who's going to stop it."
Page stepped quietly up to the defiant Pinkey. "I will, Mr. Chalmers, if necessary. I know nothing of your plans, but in this place Miss Jenkins's word is law. You and I are here to obey it as gentlemen."
Tommy blazed. "Gentlemen! Who are you, I'd like to know, pushing in and meddling with my affairs," he said.
At the challenge the old look of confusion momentarily clouded Page's eyes. Then with an effort he found himself. "My ancestry would not appeal to you, sir. But"—half good-humoredly—"the punch of my fist might."
"Oh h—h—ho!" stuttered Pinkey, angry and game. "You want to fight, do you! Light in! I'm ready."
Page started forward. A sound stopped him. It was voices singing an age-old nursery tune: