"I don't believe he has any right to think that," spoke d.i.c.k warmly.

"She's a very nice girl. I wish I had met her earlier in the evening."

The band was playing another waltz.

"So do lots of other fellows, I guess. But you're doing pretty well.

There goes Dutton with her now," continued Paul.

d.i.c.k looked on, with envious eyes. Though Dutton and Miss Hanford were waltzing about, she did not seem at ease. Her face was flushed, and Dutton looked angry. When the dance came to an end he left her abruptly.

d.i.c.k strolled over, casually, though his heart was beating faster than usual.

"You look warm," he said to the girl.

"Yes, the room is very close," she replied, and she fanned her face with a filmy lace handkerchief.

"Perhaps you would like an ice."

"Indeed I should."

"I'll get you one," promised d.i.c.k. Then, waxing bold, he looked at her program.

"What are you looking for?" she asked with a laugh. "To see what sort of ice I prefer? It's not there, but I'll take orange, if you can get one."

"I was looking to see, if by any good fortune you had another vacant place on your card."

"I'll make one for you," she said with a smile, as she crossed out a name. "Tantrell can look for another partner," she added.

"Who may Tantrell be?" asked d.i.c.k, as he put his name in place of the erased one.

"My cousin. He brought me here, but he doesn't care much for dancing. I know he'll be glad to have you relieve him."

"Not half so glad as I am," retorted d.i.c.k quickly. "Now I'll get you the ice."

As he walked away he saw Dutton eyeing him angrily.

"Probably he doesn't like me to be talking to her," thought d.i.c.k.

There was quite a crush in the refreshment room, and, in spite of the fact that he was a member of the arrangement committee, d.i.c.k had some difficulty in getting an ice for Miss Hanford. As he struggled through the crush of gay dancers with it he tripped, and, to save himself, involuntarily threw his hands forward. The ice slipped from the plate, and went splashing full against the back of a cadet dressed in an elaborate Colonial uniform, with a white satin coat. The highly-colored ice made a big, blotchy stain on the garment.

The cadet whirled like a flash. It was Dutton.

"Who did that?" he cried, as he saw a little puddle forming at his feet, where the fast melting ice lay.

"I did," answered d.i.c.k promptly. "It was an accident, Captain Dutton."

"An accident?" There was a sneer in the other's tone.

"An accident," retorted d.i.c.k, as he turned away.

"Here! Where are you going?" cried Dutton. Several turned to stare at him, for his manner toward d.i.c.k was most insulting.

"I am going after another ice for Miss Hanford," said the young millionaire quickly.

"Wait a minute!" ordered Dutton, in the voice he used on parade.

"Not now," drawled d.i.c.k. "Wait until I get another ice."

"You wait, I say!" spluttered Dutton.

"It's too hot," replied d.i.c.k, for he could not help but notice the insulting tones. "I'll see you later. I'm sorry about the accident."

"That was no accident," declared Dutton. "You did that on purpose, and I--I want----"

But d.i.c.k pa.s.sed on. He saw Miss Hanford looking at him from among the fringe of spectators, and, as he walked back to the refreshment room, he noticed that Dutton had one of the mess-hall attendants wiping off as much as possible of the stain from the white satin coat.

CHAPTER XXII

THE CHALLENGE

When d.i.c.k secured another ice, and took it to Miss Hanford, he found her sitting in a quiet corner. She was rather pale, and did not seem to care much for the ice which he had had such trouble in securing.

"I'm not quite so warm now," she said, in explanation. "It was very kind of you to get this for me. Do you--do you think Captain Dutton will be very angry at you?" She seemed anxious.

"I don't see why he should be," replied d.i.c.k. "It was an accident. I could not help tripping."

"After you went back the second time, he talked loudly about you having done it on purpose, and he said he was going to demand satisfaction,"

went on the girl. "Will he?"

"Well, he can demand it, I suppose," said d.i.c.k slowly, "but I don't know what I can do, except to say I'm sorry, and offer to pay for his coat."

"Do you--do you think he will do anything--anything desperate?" asked Miss Hanford, and she looked at d.i.c.k sharply.

"Of course not," he replied. "But if we are going to dance, would you mind if we began now? I think this is my two-step."

She arose, and they went whirling about the room. But she was strangely quiet. d.i.c.k's enjoyment of the dance was not a bit lessened by seeing Dutton once more scowling at him from behind a draped pillar. The cadet captain had doffed his gay coat, and wore one belonging to his uniform.

It formed a strange contrast to his otherwise Colonial costume. When the dance was over d.i.c.k saw him beckoning, and, excusing himself from his fair partner, he walked to where Dutton stood.

"You wished to speak to me?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Yes. Come outside."

"What for?"

"I wish to speak to you."

"Won't it do in here?"