For a second he stared around in a puzzled way, failing to locate the owner of that voice in the crowd. Dalton’s elbow dug into his ribs, and Dalton’s voice whispered in his ear: “The Big Chief! Get busy, kid.” Then it was that Lefty discovered Charles Collier, the distinguished-looking owner of the Blue Stockings, standing near the wall at a little distance; and beside him, more charming than ever in her evening gown of shimmering white, was his daughter, Virginia. “You’re just the man I’m looking for,” Collier said, as Lefty stepped swiftly over and bowed his greetings. “See here, boy, is it possible that you’re a son of the Reverend Paul Hazelton, who went through Dartmouth and the New York Theological Seminary, and has a parish somewhere out in Jersey?” Lefty’s eyes brightened. “Quite possible,” he smiled. “He’s been in Summit for the last twelve years. Do you know him?” “Know him?” echoed Collier emphatically. “I should say I did! Why, we were chums at college, and kept up our friendship for a number of years afterward. I must have been wool-gathering. I knew your name was Hazelton, but somehow the connection never occurred to me till my daughter suggested it at dinner to-night. I suppose it was because I couldn’t associate Paul’s son with baseball.” “Yes; Dad has a perfect horror of the game. He had a friend who was killed while――” “Yes, of course. Poor Brandon! It was in our junior year. Your father could never bear even to see a game after that. I must have a chat with you about him soon. Just now I’m――” He paused abruptly, his eyes roving over the immaculate figure of the young man, and then veering swiftly to his daughter’s face. “By Jove, Virginia!” he exclaimed. “I don’t see why Hazelton can’t help us out.” Miss Collier’s color deepened a trifle and she made a quick, protesting gesture with her white-gloved hands. “How absurd, Dad! Mr. Hazelton is here with friends. I couldn’t think of asking such a thing.” “Nonsense!” chuckled the older man. “I don’t believe he’ll mind shaking them for a little while.” He turned to Locke. “I’ve just had a message from a real-estate man,” he explained, “whom I expected to see in the morning. He’s got to take the midnight back to Boston, and it’s essential that I should talk to him before he goes. Virginia can’t very well stay here alone, but if you would take my place――” “I should be delighted,” Lefty said swiftly, as the older man paused questioningly. “The fellows I’m with are just three men from the team.” In reality he was very far from being overjoyed, but he was much too courteous and well-bred to allow any sign of this to appear in his face or manner. Having given up an evening with Janet to keep his previous engagement, he did not particularly fancy spending it with even so charming a person as Virginia Collier.