CHAPTER IV
THE PARSON'S DAUGHTER
Dyke expressed satisfaction, and the
hazelnut sparkler in his blazing red tie
reflected varicolored gleams from its
many facets, as his cupped hands held a burning
match to light a fresh cigarette.
As he flung aside the match, and chanced to glance past the far end of the bleachers, his black eyes glinted on beholding a girl in a light dress, shading herself with a pale-blue parasol, and seated in a carriage that had just drawn up in line with others out there. A span of spirited and extremely restless bays were attached to the carriage. At the girl's side, wearing a light suit, straw hat, and tan driving gloves, sat a square-shouldered young man.
"Hel-lo!" breathed Fancy. "There's old man King's cub, with the parson's daughter. I don't blame him, for she certainly is some peach. She must be getting independent; last year I offered to get her a season ticket, but she said her hidebound old man wouldn't let her come to the games, which
