At this Rupert laughed scornfully. “Rot,” he said, “the whole town is laughing at all that bloody bandage business. It was a bit of stage play. Very clever, I confess, but no hockey. I happen to know that Maitland was quite hot about it.”
But Hugh and Vic only laughed at him.
“He is a clever little beggar, is Snoopy,” said Vic.
“But, meantime,” said Mrs. Templeton, “where is Jack! He was going to be here, was he not?”
“Feasting and dancing, I expect,” said Rupert. “There is a big supper on, given by the Mill management, and a dance afterwards—'hot time in the old town,' eh?”
“A dance?” gasped Patricia. “A dance! Where?”
“Odd Fellows' Hall,” said Rupert. “Want to go? I have tickets. Don't care for that sort of thing myself. Rather a mixed affair, I guess. Mill hands and their girls.”
“Oh,” breathed Patricia, “I should love to go. Couldn't we?”
“But my dear Patricia,” said her mother, “a dance, with all those people? What nonsense. But I wish Jack would drop in. I should so like to congratulate him on his great victory.”
“Oh, do let us go, just for a few minutes, Mamma” entreated Patricia. “Hugh, have you tickets?”