The chauffeur, carrying a bulky auto robe, followed them.
Bill immediately lost interest in the charming damsels who had been so attractive for two hours or more. He said, “Well, gotta skip! Goo’bye!” and ambled off toward home, whistling.
Frank, still tuning the car, gave a sigh of relief.
“Now there is a mix-up,” said Bill anxiously. “There is a car in front of the house, but it’s got a lady for one of the passengers and, say, she is some looker!”
“Them same,” said Frank sagely, “is sometimes the worst kind. On our way, brother, on our way!”
“All right,” said Bill cheerfully, and dashed into the house, returning straightway with a small bundle which he tossed into the car as he hopped in. Frank turned and they went slowly down the block. The large empty car still stood before the house as Frank drew in at the curb in front of the Crowleys. Elizabeth still sat serenely rocking, her face toward the De Lormes’. She did not intend to miss a second view of the radiant stranger.
“Hello, Elizabeth!” said Bill affably. “Care if I telephone? I’m in a hurry and hate to go back home.”
“Help yourself!” said Elizabeth. “Right in the hall.”
Bill, frantic for fear the strangers would come out before he did, called, “Taylor 5000” and when they answered, he continued, “Is this the Provost Marshal’s office? Well, I want to speak to Mr. Beezley, please. Yes, Lieut. Beezley. Oh, Ern? Get busy! Ready to start, guess. Two men and a lady; a bird! All right. Try the Dixie Highway. Goo’bye!” He hurried outside and stood talking to Elizabeth, while Frank patiently waited in the car, head down, as though he intended to stay there all day. His brilliant red-and-blue plaid cap was pulled well down, and under it keen eyes scanned the car ahead.
The workman, rising from his seat on the curb by the broken fountain, idly knocked the ashes out of his pipe and looked around for his crowbar. In the park two young soldiers said good-bye lingeringly to two reluctant girls, and with many promises for picture postals walked away.