It overlooked the lake, Janice had been told, for most of
the distance to the larger town.

She passed several farmhouses but did not reach the Hammett place;
instead she rested upon a rustic bridge where a swift, brawling brook
came down from the hills to tumble into the lake. Then, as she was
going on, a quick "put, put, put" sounded from along the road she had
been traveling.

"It's a motorcycle," thought Janice. "I didn't know anybody owned one
around Poketown."

Turning the bend in the road the 'cycle flashed into view, along with a
whisp of dust. A young man rode the machine--a young man who looked
entirely different from the youths of Poketown. Janice looked at him
with interest as he flashed past. She thought he was going so fast
that he would never notice her curiosity.

He was muscularly built, with a round head set firmly upon a solid
neck, from which his shirt was turned well away, thus displaying the
cords of his throat to advantage. He was well bronzed by the sun, and
the heavy crop of hair, on which he wore a visorless round cap, was
crisp and of a dull gold color. He really _was_ a good-looking young
man, and in his knickerbockers and golf stockings Janice thought he
seemed very "citified" indeed.

"He's a college boy, I am sure," decided the girl, with interest,
watching the rider out of sight. "I couldn't see his eyes behind those
dust glasses; but I believe there was a dimple in his cheek. If his
face was washed, I don't doubt but what he'd be good-looking," and she
laughed. "Why! here's Walky Dexter!"

The red-faced driver of the "party wagon" drew in Josephus and his
mate, with a flourish.

"Wal, now! I _am_ beat," he ejaculated, his little eyes twinkling.
"Can't be I've found a _lost_ Day?"

"No, indeed, Mr. Dexter," she told him. "I _was_ thinking I'd walk to
the Hammetts'; but it's turned so hot and dusty----"

"And the Hammett gals live two good mile ahead o' ye."

"Oh! as far as that?"

"Surest thing ye know. Better hop in an' jog along back 'ith me," said
Walkworthy Dexter, cordially.

"Can I, Mr. Dexter?"

"You air jest as welcome as the flowers in May," he assured her.
"Whoa, Josephus. Stand still, Kate! My sakes! but the flies bite the
critters this morning, an' no mistake."

Janice "hopped in," and Mr. Dexter clucked to the willing horses.

"I jest been takin' a party of our young folks over to Middletown to
take examinations for entrance to the Academy,