The Internationals, led by the Rajah, piled up two goals in rapid succession, and won by a wide margin. Secretly Flash wondered if Rascomb had been upset by the question about Albert Povy.
The game over, Doyle seemed in no haste to leave the club grounds.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” he said vaguely, and wandered down to the stables where Rascomb last had been seen.
“Take your time.”
Presently Flash saw the pair disappear into the clubhouse together. He settled himself in the truck for a long wait.
“Doyle is breaking his neck to make a good impression on that fellow,” he thought. “Oh, well, it’s none of my affair.”
He was half tempted to follow Doyle into the clubhouse. While he had no desire to seek Rascomb’s favor, he would enjoy driving the sportsman into a corner with another question about Albert Povy.
A half hour elapsed before Doyle returned to the truck. He was in high spirits.
“Rascomb and I had a long talk together,” he declared enthusiastically. “I think I’ve swung it!”
“An invitation to Rascomb’s lodge?”