igh life, Pop. It was so hot
in town. And the hotel's full of a convention of rough necks. I brought
Freddy with me and Mildred and Jack are in the other car. We thought the
rest might do us good."

The voice was nasal and pitched high, as though she were trying to make
herself audible in a crowd. Peter was ready to revise his estimate that
her face was pretty, for to him no woman was more beautiful than her own
voice.

"But you can't stay here, Peg," went on McGuire, "not more than over
night--with all these people. I'm very busy----"

"H-m. We'll see about that. I never saw the woods look prettier. We came
by Lakewood and Brown's Mills and--Why who----?"

As she sidled into the room she suddenly espied Peter who was still
standing by the window.

"Who----? Why--Oh, yes, this is my new superintendent and forester. Meet
my daughter,--Mr. Nichols."

Peter bowed and expressed pleasure. Miss McGuire swept him with a quick
glance that took in his flannel shirt, corduroy breeches and rough
boots, nodded pertly and turned away.

Peter smiled. Like Beth Cameron this girl was very particular in
choosing her acquaintances.

"I nearly killed a guy in the driveway," she went on, "who was he, Pop?"

"Er--one of the gardeners, I've told them to keep people off the place."

"Well. I'd like to see him keep _me_ off! I suppose he'll be trying to
hold up Mildred and Jack----"

She walked to the window passing close beside Peter, paying as little
attention to his presence as if he had been, an article of furniture.

"Can't you get this man to go down," she said indicating Peter, "and
tell them it's all right?"

"Of course," said Peter politely. "I'll go at once. And I'd like to
arrange to look over part of the estate with Wells, Mr. McGuire," he
added.

"All right, Nichols," said the old man with a frown. And then
significantly--"But remember what I've told you. Make careful
arrangements before you go."

"Yes, sir."

Peter went down the stairs, amused at his dismissal. On the veranda he
found a young man sitting on some suitcases smoking a cigarette. This
was Freddy, of course. He afterwards learned that his last name was
Mordaunt, that he was a part of Peggy's ambitions, and that he had been
invalided home from a camp and discharged from the military service. As
Freddy turned, Peter bowed politely and passed on. Having catalogued him
by his clothing, Freddy like Peggy had turned away, smoking his
cigarette.

Pete