'll I, I hope."

Chester laughed and strolled away. When he returned he carried a big
crystal pitcher filled with a pleasantly frothing home-made amber brew
in which ice tinkled. With him came Jordan King. Chester shoved aside
the screen and pushed the pitcher inside, accompanied by a glass which
Winifred had insisted on sending.

Burns caught up the pitcher, drank thirstily, drew his arm across his
mouth and grinned through the window, meeting Jordan King's smiling gaze
in return.

"Company manners don't go when your hands are black, eh?" remarked the
man inside.

"Mechanics and surgeons seem a good deal alike at times," was the
laughing reply.

"Can't tell 'em apart. Your lily-handed surgeon is an anomaly. I hear
Aleck came out under his own steam to-night. How does it go?"

"First rate. It was great fun. He's like a boiling kettle full of steam,
with the lid off just in time."

"Good. Be on your guard when he's driving, though, for a while. Don't
let him stay at the wheel down Devil's Hill just yet."

"Why not? He has absolute control the way I've fixed it. You see the
spark and gas are right where--"

"I don't want you to take one chance in a million on that back of yours
yet. See? Or do I have to drive that order in and spike it down?"

"He seems to have a lot of conversation in him--for you," observed
Chester to King as the two outside laughed at this explosion from
within.

"Such as it is," replied King with an audacious wink. "I thought I'd got
about through taking orders."

"I'll give you both two minutes to clear out," came from inside the
window as Burns caught up a piece of steel and began narrowly to examine
it. Over it he looked at Jordan King, and the two exchanged a glance
which spoke of complete understanding.

"Come again, boy," Burns said with a sudden flashing smile at his
friend.

"I will--day after to-morrow in the afternoon," King returned, and his
eyes held Burns's.

"What? Do you know?"

King nodded, with a look of pride. "You bet I do."

"Who told you?"

"Himself."

"Didn't know you knew him well enough for that."

"Oh, yes, through mother; they're old friends. She sent me to see him
for her."

"I see. Well, wish me luck!"

"I wish you--your own skill at its highest power," said Jordan King
fervently.

"Thanks, youngster," was Burns's answer, and this time there was no
smile on the face which he lifted again for an instant from above the
tiny piece of steel whi