Billy nodded. "There's Milford, too."
"There was," I said. "And that's another good reason for hanging on. We'll clear that business up whatever happens." Then I paused. "I should like to put a spoke in Sangatte's wheel if I could," I added reflectively.
"Well, we shan't be dull," said Billy, smiling. "I think I'd better shift my quarters, and come and camp in Park Lane."
"Why, of course," I said. "You don't suppose I'm going to let you out of my sight till it's all over. I want you to be my best man."
"Anything to oblige," returned Billy. "Though I guess I'm more likely to be chief mourner."
As he relieved himself of this encouraging statement, I suddenly spotted Sir George and Miss York strolling round the ground towards us.
"That's settled then, Billy," I said hurriedly. "You get the car ready and send me the wire, and I'll meet you at the Plough at about seven o'clock."
He nodded, and we both got up as the other two approached.
"We've been sent to fetch you back," began Miss York. "Men are scarce in the grand stand, so you mustn't be selfish."
"Doocid good innings of York's—what!" remarked Sir George. "Very pretty shot that late cut of his."