“How much?” asked Bert from the window-seat.
“Eight,” answered Chick. “Tell him that’s all— No, never mind. Don’t tell him anything. I’ll probably be in, anyhow.”
“Try to, will you?” said Bert. “You know, Charles, I don’t warm to that Mr. Devore much.”
“Oh, he’s all right except for being a lot luckier than the law allows.”
“Maybe, but I don’t crave to entertain him. I’ll be over in Lykes around five o’clock, so—”
“What are you going over there for?” interrupted Chick.
“I told Ted Ball I’d be over. He seemed to think my presence would add to his happiness. Better come along.”
“I’m going to play some golf with Dozier at three. I suppose Ted’s going to tell you how good you are, eh?”
“If he does I promise not to believe him,” answered Bert good-humoredly.
“Oh, yes, you will! You’ll get a swelled head like all the rest of the heroes; like Ted himself for that matter. What’s become of the sports section?”