“Never mind, Patsy,” said Katharine. “We’ll ride in it, even if it is old.”
“There’s where we’re going this afternoon,” remarked Patricia a few minutes later, pointing down a side street; “you can see the baseball park from here.”
Long before the game started, they were in their seats watching the crowds pour into the stands.
Patricia, who sat beside Craig, soon noticed that he was scanning faces with more than casual interest. When he pulled out a pair of opera glasses with which to view the opposite stands, her curiosity got the better of her.
“Looking for someone special?” she inquired, making pleats in her handkerchief.
“Yes.” He moved closer, put his head down, and spoke softly. “We got a tip that the principal in the Brock affair might be around here, and my chief sent me out to see what I could pick up. Keep it under your hat, though.”
“Of course,” breathed Patricia, quivering with excitement.
“Come home to dinner with us?” asked Patricia, when the game was over and they were headed for the parking station.
Craig shook his head. “Like to a lot, but I want to look around a bit more tonight; so I’ll eat in a one-arm lunch that I know about where perhaps I’ll overhear something. Thanks a lot.”
“If you’d care to come, suppose you make it tomorrow instead. We have dinner at one on Sundays.”