“No, I don’t think you would,” announced Pep, bluntly.
“I’ll tell you,” went on their guest—“if you’ll give me a tip on the side I’ll work up Aunt Susie to a hundred dollars apiece. There, I know I can do it.”
Frank bit his lip and tried to keep from losing his temper with this mean-spirited cad. Then he said with quiet dignity:
“I think you had better go, Mr. Carrington, and I shall expect you to tell your aunt that we were only too glad to do a trifling service for her. Please inform her, also, that I am quite certain we shall be too busy to accept her kind invitation for to-morrow evening; in fact, we may leave Seaside Park for our home at Fairlands early in the morning.”
Dauntless Peter! you could not squelch that shallow nerve of his. In a trice he shouted out:
“Why! do you live at Fairlands?”
“Yes,” nodded Frank, wondering what was coming next from this extraordinary youth.
“Then you know Greg Grayson?”
“I should think we did!” observed Pep, with a wry grimace.