Come--right about face, old chap, and come with me!" Bertram shook his head.
"Sorry--but I guess I can't, to-night," he sighed.

Both gesture and words were unhesitating, but the voice carried the discontent of a small boy, who, while the sun is still shining, has been told to come into the house.
"Oh, rats! Yes, you can, too.

Come on! Lots of the old crowd will be there--Griggs, Beebe, Jack Jenkins, and Tully.

We need you to complete the show." "Jack Jenkins?
Is he here ?" A new eagerness had come into Bertram's voice.
"Sure! He came on from New York last night.

Great boy, Jenkins! Just back from Paris fairly covered with medals, you know." "Yes, so I hear.