Johnny looked at him with reproachful eyes. Courtney was to blame for his present gloom.
"Thanks," he returned. "What did she say?"
"Not much," replied Courtney, smiling slyly. "She didn't know where you were, but she's looking for you."
"Where is she?" asked Johnny, jumping up with alacrity.
"She just went out on the side porch of the library," announced Courtney. "Her message is from me, however. Washer and Close and the colonel are coming out this noon."
"Thanks," replied Johnny starting away. "Did I understand you to say the side porch of the library?"
A thin-legged figure stopped in the door and twitched.
"Mornin'," it observed. "I knew Eugene's intellect was woozing again. Always announcing some plan for us to bore each other, don't you know, and never having it come off."
"This is the place and the hour, Reggie," declared Mr. Courtney. "If you'll just stay here I'll send you out a brandy and soda and some cigars."
"Thanks awfully, old man," returned Reggie, looking dubiously out at the loggia. It was enticing enough, with its broad, cool, tiled flooring and its vine-hung arches and its vistas of the tree-clad hills across the ravine; but it was empty. "I think I'll return when the rest of them are together.", And Reggie, stumbling against the door-jamb on his way out, wandered away, choosing the right-hand passage because his body had happened to lurch in that direction.