his motorcycle, miles mean nothing to him and time means less. He
is always late to dinner."

"I shouldn't think he would have found the riding very pleasant
to-night," said Betty smiling. "In fact, it is a wonder he could ride at
all--the roads are almost impassable."

"Quite impassable, you mean," put in Mollie.

"Oh, he has conquered that difficulty," their hostess explained, her
eyes once more lighting with pride in her son. "He has a sort of path
through the woods, which, while it perhaps lacks the comforts of a state
road, at least is not inches deep in mud. He did get caught that way
once and was several hours coming a few miles."

"She said he rode a motorcycle," remarked Grace to Mollie with apparent
irrelevance as the lady turned to speak to Mrs. Ford.

"Well, what about it?" inquired Mollie, as she proceeded with wonderful
concentration to spear one last small but delicious piece of chocolate
on the end of her fork.

"Doesn't that convey anything to your benighted mind?" Grace was
drawling sarcastically when Betty leaned toward her eagerly.

"I thought his voice sounded familiar," she said. "Of course we know who
he is now."

"Good evening, everybody," said the familiar voice, and they turned to
find its owner strolling toward them across the room.

"Mr. Joe Barnes!" cried Mollie impulsively, then checked herself and
slowly grew red.

"That's who," sang out Joe Barnes slangily, and in the laughter and
greetings that followed Mollie forgot her embarrassment.

Only Joe Barnes' mother looked completely surprised and taken aback.

"You know each other, then," she rather stated than asked as there was a
lull in the conversation. "I had no idea--"

"Of course you hadn't," agreed her son, as he took the vacant seat
beside her and turned upon her a pair of very handsome laughing eyes. "I
didn't either until a few minutes ago, and we haven't been acquainted
more than a few hours."

"Your son did us the favor of helping us out of a difficulty this
afternoon," Mrs. Ford explained, taking pity on the lady's bewilderment.
"To be explicit, he performed the very disagreeable operation of putting
a new tire on the front wheel of our car."

"Oh, so that's it," laughed Mrs. Barnes.

"Mother, what do you say to cutting out ceremony and getting down to
brass tacks?" put in Joe Barnes, eyeing hungrily the plate of steaming
soup the maid had set before him.

"We don't serve them," said his mother demurely. "Bu