“Dicky-boy, I’ve had my lesson, and when we are married, every day the first thing, instead of good morning, I am going to say I love you, which, after all, will mean the same thing.”
“Married, Bobs! When are we to be married?”
The girl laughed at the lad’s eagerness, but as many passengers were appearing on deck, she replied, demurely, “Sometime, of course, and live happily ever after.”
It was hard for Dick not to shout, but, instead, he said:
“Come along, dear, and I’ll cancel my passage, and then I’ll go home with you and tell you what all this means to me. I can’t very well here.” Then, as he glanced about, he inquired: “How did you get here, Bobs? Did you come alone?”
“No, Ralph brought me.” Her conscience rebuked her, for she had completely forgotten the existence of her other friend. “He was as hurt as I was because you were going away without seeing him,” she told Dick.
“Poor old Ralph,” was all he said. “I certainly am sorry for him, but I suppose it can’t be helped.”
“Sorry for Ralph? Why?” Roberta’s expression of surprised inquiry was so frank that the lad knew his pal had never spoken of his love.
Dick was even more puzzled when, upon reaching the dock, he saw his friend Ralph leap toward them with hands outstretched. Joyfully he exclaimed: “Great. I know by your radiant faces that you’ve made up. I congratulate you both. I certainly am glad that we made it on time.” Then after a hearty hand-shaking: “What put that wild notion of flight into your head, old man? You can’t get rid of us that easy, can he, Bobs? My detective-partner here has been telling me that she has been engaged to you ever since she wore pinafores, or was it a little later?”
Roberta laughed. “I believe I had on a riding habit that day, didn’t I, Dick?”