“I hear a little better now,” said The Duke. “Perhaps he wants to come out, Gerald!”
“I wonder! How stupid of us! I’ll bet that’s it, Duke. Suppose we open the door and see.”
“Silly asses!” grunted Harry as he emerged, warm and disgusted.
“It makes an awful difference who the joke is on, doesn’t it, dearie?” asked The Duke sweetly.
“Somebody ought to tell someone about that,” said Harry, “and have it fixed.”
“And someone had better get into commons before someone loses someone’s dinner,” replied The Duke. “You fellows been in?”
“No, we were on the way when Kirk asked us to find you and give you a message.”
“He was in a rush and asked me to call up his folks in New York and say he’d telephone this evening. Couldn’t get the house, though. Central said they didn’t answer. I wonder if he knew about that door!”
“I don’t think so,” laughed Gerald as they ran up the steps of Whitson. “He didn’t look to be in a very—very flippant mood.”