“Speaking of engagements, reminds me of something!” exclaimed Phil, pulling a note from his pocket. “Ruth wrote me yesterday to come over to Fairview to-night, and bring you fellows. There’s some sort of doings—giving a Greek play, or something like that, and a feed after it. I forgot all about it.”
“Say, you’re a nice one!” cried Tom, jumping up and looking at the new clock.
“I should say yes!” added Sid. “Is it too late to go now?”
“Guess not,” drawled Phil. “If you fellows think we can escape the eagle eye of Proc. Zane, I’m willing, are you?”
“Sure we are!” cried Phil and Tom, eagerly. “We can pull on our best duds, and catch the next trolley. Zane can go hang! I guess we can slip in all right!”
“I reckon I’d better be off then,” spoke Simpson, as he arose to go. “You haven’t any too much room to get dressed, all three at once.”
“No, don’t go,” begged Phil. “That is go and get togged up, and come back. Go along with us over to Fairview. My sister said she’d like to meet you. I was telling her about you.”
“Do you mean it?” asked the Californian earnestly, for he liked social pleasures, and he had not met any girls, as yet.
“Sure, come along!” urged Tom and Sid. “We can fix you up with a girl, I guess.”