“Yes! Mine and hers. Ghastly proposition, isn’t it?”
“The last straw,” remarked Ted Jerningham. “A more impossible man as a bridegroom would be hard to think of. But in the meantime I pinched half a dozen of the old man’s Perrier Jonet 1911 and put ’em in the car. What say you?”
“Say!” snorted Hugh. “Idiot boy! Does one speak on such occasions?”
And it was so....
III
“What’s troubling me,” remarked Hugh later, “is what to do with Carl and that sweet girl Irma.”
The hour for the meeting was drawing near, and though no one had any idea as to what sort of a meeting it was going to be, it was obvious that Peterson would be one of the happy throng.
“I should say the police might now be allowed a look in,” murmured Darrell mildly. “You can’t have the man lying about the place after you’re married.”
“I suppose not,” answered Drummond regretfully. “And yet it’s a dreadful thing to finish a little show like this with the police—if you’ll forgive my saying so, Mr. Green.”
“Sure thing,” drawled the American. “But we have our uses, Captain, and I’m inclined to agree with your friend’s suggestion. Hand him over along with his book, and they’ll sweep up the mess.”