Chapter X

“Why the Samp cabin? Why not in front of mine?” The question tap-danced round and round in Janice’s mind as she kept pace with Tubby Grant along the concrete walk. He was abnormally silent, his green eyes were clouded, his boyish lips were clamped to repression. Two girls in a smart roadster passed. “Glad that I wore my swankiest sports-clothes under my flying-suit,” Janice confided irrelevantly. Grant’s eyes appraised the perfection of her blue wool costume. “Look like a million.” “One would better here. I am as a…