"Haven't seen him," said Booth. "Is he back?"
Mr. Redmond Wrandall swallowed hard.
"I was so informed," he replied, with an effort.
"Are you not coming up to the house, Mr. Wrandall?" inquired Miss Castleton, and he thought he detected a note of appeal in her voice.
"Certainly," he announced, taking his place beside her. To himself he was saying: "This young blade has been annoying her, confound him."
"Miss Castleton had a note from Leslie this morning, saying he wouldn't start home till Friday," said Booth, puzzled. "You don't mind my saying so, Miss Castleton?"
"Not at all. I am sure he said Friday."
"I fancy he did say Friday," said Mr. Wrandall. "I think Griggs had been drinking."
"Griggs?" inquired the two in unison.
He volunteered no more than that. He was too busily engaged in wondering what his son could be thinking of, to leave this delightful girl to the tender mercies of a handsome, fascinating chap like Brandon Booth. He didn't relish the look of things. She was agitated, suspiciously so; and Booth wasn't what one would describe as perfectly at ease. There was something in the air, concluded Leslie's father.