“I told you they’d come,” said Robert to his mother. “It’s almost time for dinner. They’re coming a little after eight.”
Mrs. Hamilton looked surprised.
“I don’t know where you could have gotten such an idea, mother. Why, how is it possible?” He tried to tell her what was in his mind. The war. The country united to win. The allied soldiers of many different nations and races and religions. And the armistice only signed a few months ago. But, of course, she knew all that.
Mr. Hamilton had been called out of town on business and they ate alone. There was joy in Robert’s heart. McCall would be able to see. He must write him immediately and send Dorothy the poem. The telephone bell ringing, broke into his thoughts. It was Tom. His parents had made another engagement for the evening of which he had known nothing and like a dutiful son he would be obliged to accompany them. Tomorrow night he would also be engaged. But he’d see him some other time. Robert was turning away when the bell rang again. It was Jack Perry. He had phoned before but the line was busy. He had suddenly remembered that he had an engagement with someone. With whom? Why, with Tom McBride.
“Why, what’s the matter with you, Jack?” asked Robert.
“Nothing,” said Jack. “I simply forgot for the moment. By the way, I understand that you’ve joined the Trick Track Tribe.”
“No, not yet.” Was Jack trying to pump him? He remembered suddenly that joining the Tribe was supposed to be a secret. Jack’s voice became hard over the phone, hard and formally polite.
“Mr. McBride and I are going to attend the Knights of Columbus, a little business meeting. Tell Pinkney and Griffith and the Rev. Mr. Lister that. A Knights of Columbus meeting. Goodbye.”
“But listen, old man—”
It was too late. Perry had rung off. He returned to the table crestfallen and repeated his conversation to his mother.