Perry was too pleased to challenge his friend’s use of the word “we,” and in a few minutes they had parted, having agreed to meet at half-past seven at the corner of Troutman and E Streets and put the case before Dick Lovering.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE OFFICER AT THE DOOR
Dick was just leaving the house when the boys arrived there that evening, and Eli Yale was awaiting him at the curb, but he instantly offered to return. Since the evening had turned cool, they went inside, seating themselves in the little room to the right that was at once parlor, living-room, library and Dick’s study.
It was a comfortable, homelike little room, with a big table by the front windows whereat Dick studied and conducted his affairs, a smaller one, in the center of the warmly-hued carpet, flanked by two easy chairs,—one of which, a deeply tufted leather affair, was Dick’s especial property,—a couch covered with a gaily colored Afghan robe, two book-cases, an old-fashioned foot-rest, more chairs and, curled up on one of them, a fluffy smoke-gray cat. Between the book-shelves was a fireplace and on the marble ledge above, a brass-dialed, ebony-cased clock ticked with dignified deliberation, keeping perfect time with the purring of Lady Gray. On the big table a green-shaded student lamp threw a pleasant light over the neat piles of books and papers. There was little that was either new or expensive in the room, but everything, from the oldest side-chair to the few pictures on the walls, proclaimed friendliness and comfort.
Fudge was the spokesman, and he managed to tell his story with commendable brevity, although he could not help embroidering it with a few harmless frills. Dick was interested at once. If he suspected that he was not being told quite all there was to tell, he made no sign. When Fudge had reached a slightly breathless but triumphant conclusion Dick nodded. “I’ll be glad to speak to Louise,” he said, “and to the others as well. I don’t believe that Mr. Brent is employing any surveyors just now, for I think he has done all he is going to do on the addition at present. There’s talk of re-locating the trolley line that runs over to Sterling and I believe he is not going to do anything more until that has been settled. But we’ll do what we can, Fudge, the lot of us. If it’s as bad as you say with this chap, he ought to have some work given him. Do you suppose he can do anything else if there’s no engineering just now?”
“He can run a livery stable,” said Fudge doubtfully.
“And punch cattle,” added Perry.
“I’m afraid there isn’t much chance of his getting a job at cattle-punching in Clearfield,” Dick laughed. “All right, fellows, I’ll speak about it this evening. I was just going to run over to the Brents’ when you came. Look me up to-morrow and I’ll tell you what the result is.”
They took their departure, highly satisfied, and Dick sped away in Eli. When he reached Brentwood he found Louise and Lanny in absorbed discussion of the Track Trophy. Louise Brent was a tall, blue-eyed girl of fifteen, with a fair skin and much yellow-brown hair. She was attractive more on account of her expression than her features. Dick was made welcome and Lanny explained about the trophy, and the three laid plans and drew sketches for the better part of an hour. Louise was enthusiastic and promised to interest the other girls at once. “You just wait, Lanny,” she said.