“Can you beat it? Uh-h-h-h!” Jerry dropped with angry force into the arm chair which Natalie Weyman had so recently vacated. “What was the matter with those girls, anyway? How could they help but know that we hadn’t had our dinner? It was after six o’clock when we reached here. It took time to get hold of Busy Buzzy and be assigned to our rooms, and more time to make ourselves presentable. Why couldn’t they have figured out that much? Next step in our process of deduction; they came to the door about twenty minutes past seven. Now how could we have had time to go down stairs, eat our dinner and be back in our room again?”
“The answer is, they didn’t do any deducing,” declared Muriel. “I suppose they simply chose their own time to call.”
“A very inconvenient time, I must say,” grumbled Jerry. “Here’s another point that needs clearing up. If that Miss Weyman drove her car down to the station, expecting to bring the five of us back in it, why was it cram-jam full of girls?”
“They may have been friends of hers who merely wanted to ride down to the station, Jerry,” surmised Ronny. “Why trouble your brain about our callers now? Let us think about where we are going to have our dinner. The dining room is closed, of course. We shall have to call on the hospitable Baretti for sustenance. He’s hospitable if his restaurant is still open. Otherwise, I don’t think much of him.”
“First thing to do is to find out where he holds forth. I hope the place is not far from here. I’m so hungry and so tired.” Marjorie spoke with a tired kind of patience that ended in a yawn. “We had better start out at once. We’ll probably find some one downstairs who can direct us.”
The others no less hungry, the Five Travelers lost no more time in getting downstairs, preferring to leave the subject of their recent callers until a time more convenient for discussion. At the foot of the stairs they encountered two girls about to ascend.
“Good evening. Will you please direct us to Baretti’s?” It was Ronny who asked the question in a clear, even tone that, while courteous, was so strictly impersonal as to be almost cool. Having just encountered a trio of girls whom she had instantly set down as snobs, Ronny had donned her armor.
“Good evening.” Both girls returned the salutation. The taller of the two, a sandy-haired young woman with sleepy gray eyes, a square chin and freckles now became spokesman. “You will find Baretti’s about a square from the west wall of the campus. Turn to your right as you pass out the main gate.”
“There is the Colonial, too, about two squares beyond Baretti’s,” informed the other, a pretty girl in a ruffled gown of apricot organdie that accentuated the black silkiness of her hair which lay off her low forehead in little soft rings.
“Thank you.” Ronny modified the crispness of her tone a trifle. “We shall not care to go further than Baretti’s tonight. May I ask what time the restaurant closes?”