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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Of course he is not going," said Alice. She was established at ease in a wicker rocker, unconcernedly plying the ostrich-plume fan. "There may be matters " began Torrence. "Oh, nothing that Bob can't hear!" Alice declared. "Very well," muttered Torrence, frowning his complete disapproval. He fidgeted for a moment and tried to catch Raynor's eye, but Raynor's face expressed amusement.
Torrence as she saw fit in the effort to better the young woman's mental and social estate. To do her justice, she performed the duties well and honorably, even though her measure of human nature was not full to overflowing.
Put your head under the cold water tap, Steve." Steve replied to that advice with a scowl, and Harry and Roy turned back to make their way upstairs again and across to Torrence. "He acted like a silly kid," said Roy crossly. "Yes, he was in a beast of a temper to-day, anyway. Wonder what's the matter with him. He's like a bear with a sore head. He had pluck to stand up to Sawyer, though.
It seemed to him that Robbins fairly outplayed himself that afternoon, but he failed to take into consideration that his rival was pitted against substitutes or that his own state of mind was rather pessimistic. Practice ended early and after a shower and a rub Clint ambled across to Torrence feeling rather dispirited. The dormitory seemed pretty empty and lonesome as he entered the corridor.
"He's certainly alarmed now!" laughed Raynor. "But the ambassador has warned us to be most tactful and circumspect. You may not know that Sir Arnold Seabring is on his way to this country on a confidential mission. That, of course, is not for publication." "Sir Arnold Seabring?" gasped Torrence. "The father of the Honorable Miss Seabring," replied Raynor with an elucidating nod toward Alice.
My attitude toward them was wholly defensive. If women of their quality were perpetrating a fraud, I was for giving them every chance, and I had no intention of allowing Torrence to spoil the unfolding of the conspiracy. We were nearing a gateway where his car waited, and I saw several of the guard hanging about at a discreet distance.
He subscribed to the school monthly, the Review, or, rather, he chipped in with Amy, which produced the same result at half the cost, contributed to the Torrence Hall football fund, became a member, though not yet a very active one, of the debating club and paid in his dues, and spent all his October and November allowance in advance, together with most of the money he had in hand, in the purchase of a suit of grey flannel at the local tailoring establishment.
I now made myself comfortable with a book and a cigar, but I had hardly settled myself for a quiet hour before I heard a commotion from the direction of the gate, followed a few minutes later by a shout and a noisy colloquy, after which a roadster arrived in haste at the front door. "Mr. Torrence, sir," announced Antoine.
Flynn was a capable but cautious driver, and they would hardly reach town before five o'clock. I took a room at the Thackeray Club and pondered carefully whether, in spite of my misgivings, I hadn't better see Torrence and tell him all that had happened since his call on Mrs. Bashford.
"Oh, yes," murmured Alice, "that's the pleasantest chapter of all. Our grenadiers captured a whole invading army that made a night attack one of the most remarkable engagements of the present war, Mr. Torrence." "The battle of the Bell-Hops," I suggested. "The prisoner will be here in a moment." While we waited Montani produced a photograph, instantly recognizable as a likeness of our prisoner.
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