“Well, I missed that. But Betty—one of the boys handed me something intended for a joke on Jack, perhaps, but I’ve heard something else, too—that it was a wild party and that they had flasks and drank—but you wouldn’t have been to one, would you?”
“Not if I could help it,” laughed Betty, speaking quite honestly at that. “What was the joke on Jack?”
The girl looked through some notes she had. “I haven’t brought it, I guess. Why, it wanted to know why Jack wasn’t able to come to school the next day after his party, and some more like that.”
“I don’t believe I’d put that in,” said Betty. “Jack hasn’t been here very long; and besides, if there is any gossip, it would only make it worse. I’ll hunt up the account in the paper, if you like, and bring it to school tomorrow. You might just copy it and add something like congratulations to Jack on his birthday. Mrs. Huxley certainly made a great dinner for Jack, served by their butler and other servants, and the house is beautiful, new, you know. Yes, the crowd was mostly older than we juniors are. Mathilde was the only one I really knew, though I believe there were two or three senior girls there.”
“Thanks, Betty. I thought you would know. I believe I’ll do what you suggest and if you’ll bring that account tomorrow it will be in plenty of time. All the copy has to go in tomorrow afternoon.”
The young “reporter” ran away satisfied and Betty turned, to come face to face with Jack. She flushed and her heart beat a little faster than usual. How she dreaded the interview which must occur sooner or later!
Jack was as sober as she ever saw him look, and she did not realize how thoughtful and serious a face she raised to him. Brown and blue eyes regarded each other for a moment. “Betty,” said he, “I’ve got to talk to you. When can I see you?”
“Would you like to come out to the house?” inquired Betty.
“I should say not!” Jack seemed more startled at the idea than rude. “Can’t I see you after school? I’ve got my roadster.”
Betty shook her head negatively at that suggestion.