nd stopped talking abruptly to admire
the trim, graceful figure.

"Does your daughter play tennis much?" he inquired.

"A great deal," returned Mr. Stevens, expanding with pride. "Jo's a
very expert player. She's better at it than any of these girls, and
she really doesn't care to play except with experts. Princeman, Hollis
and Billy Westlake are easily the champions here."

"I see," said Sam thoughtfully.

"I suppose you're a crack player yourself," his host resumed, glancing
at Sam's bat.

"Me? No, worse than a dub. I never had time; that is, until now.
I'll tell you, though, this being away from the business grind is a
great thing. You don't know how I enjoy the fresh air and the being
out in the country this way, and the absolute freedom from business
cares and worries."

"But where are you going?" asked Stevens, for Sam was getting up.
"You'll stay to lunch with us, won't you?"

"No, thanks," replied Sam, looking at his watch. "I expect some word
from my kid brother. I have wired him to send some samples of marsh
pulp, and the paper we've had made from it."

"Marsh pulp," repeated Mr. Stevens. "That's a new one on me. What's
it like?"

"Greatest stunt on earth," replied Sam confidently. "It is our scheme
to meet the deforestation danger on the way--coming."

Already he was reaching in his pocket for paper and pencil, and sat
down again at the side of Mr. Stevens, who immediately began stroking
his aggressive beard. Fifteen minutes later Sam briskly got up again
and Mr. Stevens shook hands with him.

"That's a great scheme," he said, and he gazed after Sam's broad
shoulders admiringly as that young man strode down the steps.

On his way Sam passed the tennis court where the one girl and three
young men were engaged in a most dextrous game, a game which all the
other amateurs of Hollis Creek Inn had stopped their own sets to watch.
In the pause of changing sides Miss Josephine saw him and waved her
hand and wafted a gay word to him. A second later she was in the air,
a lithe, graceful figure, meeting a high "serve," and Sam walked on
quite thoughtfully.

When he arrived at Meadow Brook his first care was for his telegram.
It was there, and bore the assurance that the samples would arrive on
the following morning. His next step was to hunt Miss Westlake. That
plump young person forgot her pique of the morning in an instant when
he came up to her with that smiling "been-looking-for-you-e