“Don’t tempt Fate,” cautioned Gloria.
“Tempt Fate! I’d bribe the dear old thing if I knew what she liked best. Come along, Snooksy. Let’s hope for the best, or worst, if you feel as I do about it.”
“But your English? Didn’t I interrupt——”
“A real mercy. When Patricia Halliday goes in for cramming, I tell you, chile, she sure does cram. Oh boy!” The chuckle that verified this also repudiated it, as Pat said, according to one’s viewpoint.
The search for Jack began with a little twittering whistle along the corridor, leading up to “fourteen” the number on a partly opened door.
“You’re right. The prodigal has returned,” whispered Pat, dodging past Jean’s door and actually bending double as she sprinted past Edna Hobb’s. “Plugging away” for the quarterly exams meant that rooms might hide the anxious students in their safest corners.
But the open door proved a false alarm. Jack was not found within.
“She has been here,” reasoned Gloria. “Here’s her bag and there’s her hat.”
“Surest thing. She may be down telling it all to Alty. Let’s peek,” suggested Pat.
Gloria’s critical eye swept the room. No sign of rough-rider outfit was in sight. Instead, there were the tweed top coat, the smart rainbow sport hat, and a very much beaded one piece, brown silk jersey dress. Jack was noted for showy clothes, and they were always of a very good and costly quality.