“Oh! Yes—I think that will be lovely!” said Polly.
“All right! Run up and tell the others to get their caps and jackets on. I’ll telephone an agent and see what’s good.”
Polly ran out of the room, glad to have the problem of the evening’s entertainment solved for her, but still she felt a little disappointed because Tom could so eagerly suggest taking the family out when she wanted to have a tête-à-tête with him to ask about the mines. Tom’s plan about holding the temptation before a burro instead of surfeiting him with goodies, was evidently beginning to work.
The play was one of the most popular ones, and seats were in great demand. But money does anything in New York, so Tom secured splendid orchestra seats, and they reached the theatre just as the curtain went up on the first scene. The interior was darkened when they entered, and Polly could not tell who sat in front of her, until the first act ended and the lights were turned on.
Tom sat beside her, and began whispering in his free western voice, when a young man seated directly in front, turned deliberately around and stared at him. Polly gasped, and Eleanor nudged her in the side. It was Jack Baxter!
Without taking his eyes from Tom, Jack reached under the chair and got his hat. Then he dragged his coat over his arm, and got up. He bowed stiffly to the girls in Tom’s party, and went out. Tom waited until he was gone, then he looked down at Polly.
“Um! It was high time I came East, I see!”
“Why?” was Polly’s smiling rejoinder.
“By next Spring it might have been Tom who sat alone and felt like the fifth wheel in a wagon instead of Baxter. My, but I’m glad I came!”
Polly frowned, and Eleanor did her best to hear what was said between these two apparently phlegmatic companions. But Tom meant his words for Polly’s ears only.