“Then 'phone Johnny Caruthers from the station and send him in for me. That'll give me fifteen minutes on the train.”
“What's the use? Pauline'll be at your elbow every minute. She'll—”
But Burns was paying no attention. He was taking the Imp past a lumbering farm-wagon with only two inches to spare between himself and the ditch. Then the car was at the station, Burns was out and through the building, through the gate and upon the slowly-moving train after a moment's hasty argument with a conductor to whom he could show no ticket. On the platform James Macauley, junior, and Martha Macauley, Winifred Chester, and four small children of assorted ages stared after the big figure bolting into the Pullman. Bobby Burns gave a shriek of delight followed by a wail of disappointment.
“By George, he's turned up, after all!” exulted Macauley, and the two women looked at each other with meaning, relieved glances.
In the car, the passengers observed interestedly the spectacle of a large man with a mop of fiery red hair, from which he had pulled a leather cap, striding, dust-covered, into the car and up to the two prettiest young women there. One of these very smartly clad in blue, received him with looks half gay, half pouting, and with a storm of talk. The other, in gray, with a face upon which no eye could rest once without covertly or openly returning in deference to its charm, gave him a quiet hand and turned away again to wave her farewell to the group of friends on the platform.
“Take my chair and I'll perch on the arm of Ellen's,” commanded Pauline, “while you explain, apologize and try to make your peace with us. You'll find it hard work. I may smile for the sake of appearances, but inside I'm really awfully angry. So is Ellen, though she doesn't show it.”
Thus Pauline, indefinitely prolonged and repeated, with variations, interpolations, interruptions. It didn't matter; Redfield Pepper Burns heard none of it. Even with Pauline “perching” on the arm of Ellen Lessing's chair, her face within eight inches of the other face, she was not within the field of his vision.
“I am sure the operation was successful,” said Mrs. Lessing.
“One can see it in his eyes,” declared Pauline. “I never knew hazel eyes could be so brilliant.”
“It went through,” admitted Burns. “It had to, you know. And I had a thing to make last evening.”