"Good old friends?" she heard him say, in his deep, hollow voice.
"I'm sure his body must be full of black caverns," she thought.
"Father, this is Miss----" There was just a perceptible pause, and Billie felt certain that Evelyn was searching vainly in her memory for her name. With great presence of mind, she interrupted her:
"Oh, your father and I have met," she said. "We were introduced over the telephone. I was afraid you might think I was a boy when you heard my name was 'Billie Campbell,'" she added, turning and facing that tower of strength and sternness. The young girl and the big man exchanged a long glance. They were not unlike David and Goliath on the field of battle, and in her heart Billie knew there was going to be a struggle.
"Show the young lady your things, Evie," he said, with a certain complaisant pride in his tone. As if to say: "We will dazzle this young person with our magnificence."
Evelyn wearily led the way into the next room, which was her bedroom, and evidently had no outlet except through her father's room. Billie glanced at the filmy laces and beautiful frocks with lukewarm interest. She was never particularly interested in clothes.
"It's a pity Nancy-Bell missed the opportunity," she thought.
Mr. Stone was called into the next room to the telephone, and in the two minutes he was away, Evelyn whispered:
"In town. You're not going to marry that----"
"Come with us in the motor to San Francisco."
"I can't, I can't," whispered Evelyn, in an agonized tone of voice.
"I must be getting back now," said Billie, when the telephone conversation was over. "The things are lovely, Evelyn. Perhaps we shall see you to-morrow. We are going sight-seeing all day, but we shall be here for meals. Good-night."
[Illustration: "Come with us in the motor to San Francisco."]
Mr. Stone accompanied Billie around the corridor to her room.
"Good-night," she said, and held out her hand.
He took it in his enormous hand, and, looking down at her with a quizzical expression, he said:
Billie's heart almost stopped beating, but she returned his look steadily.
"Yes," she replied, quickly withdrawing her hand. Then she hurried in and locked the door behind her.
"The Comet is going to have a rest to-day," observed Billie the next morning at the breakfast table. "He's being screwed up and oiled and cleaned for his last spurt across the continent."