CHAPTER 42

The two girls and Casey leaned in confidentially.

"Somebody told me they thought he killed a man once."

A thrill ran through us. The three Mr. Mumbles leaned forward and listened eagerly.

"I don't think it's so much THAT," argued Lucille skeptically; "it's more that he was a German spy during the war."

One of the men nodded in confirmation.

"I heard that from a man who knew all about him, grew up with him in Germany," he assured us positively.

"Oh, no," said the first girl, "it couldn't be that, because he was in the American army during the war." As our credulity shifted back to her, she leaned forward with

enthusiasm. "You look at him sometimes when he thinks nobody's looking at him. I'll bet he killed a man."

She narrowed her eyes and shivered. Lucille shivered too. We all turned to look for Alex. It was a testament to the romantic speculation he inspired that there were whispers about him from those who found little else worth whispering about in this world.

The first supper—there would be another one after midnight—was now being served, and Casey invited me to join her group, who were gathered around a table on the other side of the garden.

There were three married couples and Casey's escort, a persistent undergraduate prone to suggestive remarks and clearly under the impression that sooner or later Casey was going to yield herself to him.