“It has been some time,” explained Roderick, “since I was over your way.”
For a moment their eyes met and she mischievously replied;
“Oh, yes. Next time, I’ll not only sing for you, but if you wish I will teach you how to throw the lariat.”
“I don’t presume,” replied Roderick banteringly, “you will guarantee what I might catch even if I turned out to be an expert?”
“That,” Gail quickly rejoined, “rests entirely with your own cleverness.”
Just then it was announced from the dining room that the tables with the evening collation were spread, and as Roderick was about to offer his arm to Miss Holden, Barbara came hurriedly up, flushed and saying: “Oh, Gail, here is Mr. Carlisle who wants to take you to supper. And Mr. Warfield, you are to escort me.” She smiled triumphantly up into his face as she took his arm.
As they walked away together and Barbara was vivaciously talking to him, he wondered what it all meant Everybody seemed to be playing at cross purposes. Again he thought of the letter of warning pushed under Grant Jones’ door and mentally speculated how it would all end.