"Now the boys!" announced the irrepressible Bobby, apparently taking
Bob's introduction to Frances for granted. "The boys will please line up
and I'll indicate them."
The five lads obediently came forward and ranged themselves in a row.
"From left to right," chanted Bobby, "we have the Tucker twins, Tommy and
Teddy, W. M. Brown, who asks his friends to use his initials and punches
those who refuse, Timothy Derby who reads poetry and Sydney Cooke who
ought to--" and Bobby completed her speech with a wicked grin, for she
had managed to hit several weaknesses.
"As an introducer," she announced calmly to Carter, the personification
of propriety's horror, "I think I do rather well."
They stowed themselves into the limousine somehow, the girls settled more
or less comfortably on the seats, the boys squeezed in between, hanging
on the running board, and spilling over into Carter's domain.
Bob liked the five boys at once, and they seemed to accept him as one of
them. If he had had a little fear that he would feel diffident and
unboyish among lads of his own age, it vanished at the first contact.
"Betty, you sweet child, how we have missed you!" cried Mrs.
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