“It must have been,” John said sympathetically.
“Yes. Of course, my whole ambition then was to get back to her room again. I became the brightest scholar in the class. I astonished every one. The man with the red necktie was tickled to death and went round telling everybody about me and taking great credit to himself. In three months they put me back in her class.”
He paused and sighed disconsolately.
“But she wasn’t there. She had married a druggist two days before. I never saw her again.”
“And your young life was blighted!”
“Forever!”
“Which being the case,” said John, “let’s go to bed. To-morrow I shall go in search of Phil.”
“You might take a dinner bell and go around like a town crier,” suggested David, “yelling ‘Boy lost! Boy lost!’”
But Monday was a busy day for John and it was not until three o’clock that he was able to start out on his search. His first step was to look up Everett Kingsford. This occupied him the better part of an hour, but resulted in what apparently meant success.