“I am free at that hour,” stated Doctor Boyd, in answer to a glance of inquiry from Allison. He felt it his duty to keep in touch with public improvements. Also, beneath his duty lay a keen pleasure in the task.
“You’ll be very much interested, I think,” and Allison glowed with the ever-present pride of achievement, then he suddenly grinned. “The new subway stops at the edge of Vedder Court, waiting.”
There was another little pause of embarrassment, in which Gail and the Reverend Smith Boyd were very careful not to glance at each other. Unfortunately, however, the Reverend Smith Boyd was luckless enough to automatically, and without conscious mental process, fold the sheet of music which had long since been placed on the piano.
“Why stop at the edge of Vedder Court?” inquired Gail, with a nervous little jerk, much as if the words had been jolted out of her by the awkward slam of the music rack, which had succeeded the removal of the song. “Why not go straight on through, and demolish Vedder Court? It is a scandal and a disgrace to civilisation, and to the city, as well as to its present proprietors! Vedder Court should be annihilated, torn down, burned up, swept from the face of the earth! The board of health should condemn it as unsanitary, the building commission should condemn it as unsafe, the department of public morals should condemn it as unwholesome!”
The Reverend Smith Boyd had been engaged in a strong wrestle within himself, but the spirit finally conquered the flesh, and he held his tongue. He remembered that Gail was young, and youth was prone to extravagant impulse. His spirit of forbearance came so strongly to his aid that he was even able to acknowledge how beautiful she was when she was stiffened.
Allison had been viewing her with mingled admiration and respect.
“By George, that’s a great idea,” he thoughtfully commented. “Gail, I think I’ll tear down Vedder Court for you!”
CHAPTER XIII
THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
A short, thick old man, grey-bearded and puff-eyed and loaded with enormous jewels, met Gail, Lucile and Arly, Ted Teasdale and the Reverend Smith Boyd, at the foot of the subway stairs, and introduced himself with smiling ease as Tim Corman, beaming with much pride in his wide-spread fame.
“Mr. Allison sent me to meet you,” he stated, with a bow on which he justly prided himself. “Allison played a low trick on me, ladies,” and he gazed on them in turns with a jovial familiarity, which, in another, they might have resented. “From the description he gave me, I was looking for the most beautiful young lady in the world, and here there’s three of you.” His eyes swelled completely shut when he laughed. “So you’ll have to help me out. Which one of you is Miss Sargent?”