ld him firmly.

And just as firmly Dundee escorted her out of the almost deserted,
rather dirty old courthouse to where his brand-new sports
roadster--bought "on time"--was awaiting them in the parking space
devoted to the motors of those who officially served Hamilton County.

"I know why you want to drive me out to the Inn," Penny told him
suddenly, as the proud owner maneuvered his car through Saturday noon
traffic. "You want to see Nita Selim. Clank! Clank! I can hear the
padlocks snapping on the slave chains right now."

"Meow!" Dundee retorted, then grinned down at her with as much comradely
affection as if they had been friends for years instead of for a couple
of hours. "Is Nita very small?" he added.

"Little enough to tuck herself under the arm of a man a lot shorter than
you," Penny assured him with curious vehemence. "And if Penelope Crain
is no mean prophet, that's exactly what she'll do within five minutes
after she meets you--just as she is wistfully inviting you to join the
other men for the cocktail party which is scheduled to break up the
bridge game at 5:30. Then, of course, you'll be urged to join us all at
the dinner-dance at the Country Club tonight."

"Will she?" Dundee pretended to be vastly intrigued, which caused the
remainder of the drive to be a rather silent one, due to Penny's
unresponsiveness.

Breakaway Inn was intensely Spanish in architecture and transplanted
shrubbery, but its stucco walls were of a rather more violent raspberry
color than is considered quite esthetic in Spain or Mexico.

"There's Lois Dunlap's car just driving up," Penny cried, her face
softening with the adoration she had freely professed for her friend.
But it clouded again almost instantly. "And Nita Selim. I suppose Nita
was a little ashamed to drive up in her own Ford coupe."

As Dundee helped his new friend to alight his eyes were upon the two
women being assisted by a uniformed chauffeur from Lois Dunlap's
limousine.

In a moment the four were a laughing, exclamatory group.

"Oh, what a tall, grand man you've got yourself, Penny darling!" the
tiny, beautiful creature who could only be Mrs. Selim cried out happily.
"_May_ I meet him?"

"I shouldn't let you," Penny answered frankly, "but I will.... Mrs.
Selim, Mr. Dundee.... And Mrs. Dunlap, Mr. Dundee.... How are you, Lois?
And Peter and the brats?"

"All well, Penny. Petey's off on a week-end fishing trip, and not one of
the brats has measles, sc