“Well, if you had gone into Wallace’s he might have made it warm for you,” laughed Alf. “Coming over this evening, Dan? You’d better. Tom’s going to Oxford, I think; they’ve got one of their amateur vaudeville entertainments on for to-night. Tom just dotes on hearing rag-time music and seeing fellows take paper flowers out of a derby hat.”
“Yes, I’ll drop in for awhile,” answered Dan. “My, but it certainly is cold!”
“It’s great! I hope it stays just this way until after Saturday.”
“Well, Saturday is bound to be a cold day for somebody,” replied Dan. After which bon mot he and Gerald scuttled for Clarke.
It was dark when they reached the room, and while Dan found the matches and lighted the gas Gerald took his coat off. He was hanging it on its hook in his closet when Dan spoke.
“Where did you put the cup?” he asked.
“On the table there under your nose,” replied Gerald.
“On the table? Well, maybe you did, but it isn’t here now.”