SUMES A RESPONSIBILITY

"Red, the new car is here. Come and look her over."

It was Burns's neighbour on the other side, James Macauley, Junior. R.
P. Burns laid down his saw, with which in the late June twilight he had
been doing vigorous work at a small woodpile behind the house. He stood
up straight, throwing back his shoulders to take the kink out of them.

"All right," said he. "I think I'm fit for general society again. I
wasn't when I tackled this job. Nothing like fifteen minutes of woodpile
for taking the temper out of the saw--and the man."

Macauley, a stout, good-humoured fellow of thirty-five, laughed. "That
temper of yours, Red has it been on the rampage again?"

"It has. Don't talk about it or it'll lift to confounded red head
again--it's only scotched for the present. New car's here, eh?"

"Yes, and the pretty widow's here, too--my wife's sister, Ellen Lessing.
We've a great plan for tomorrow, Red. I can't venture to drive this
elephant of a car yet, but the women are wild for a trip in her. She
holds seven. Martha wants you to drive us and the Chesters to-morrow a
hundred and fifty miles seventy-five to F---- and back. Will you do
it? You're not so horribly busy just now, and Mrs. Lessing and Pauline
Hempstead together ought to make it worth while for you."

This feature of the invitation did not appear to appeal to Burns, but
the sight of the touring car, brave and shining in russet and brass,
plainly did.

"Not that I'd care to drive such a whale for myself, but I shouldn't
mind a run for the fun of trying her out. You say she's been driven
enough to warm up her engines? Suppose we take her out and let me get
the feel of her mouth before to-morrow?"

"Come on." And they were off.

"For a whale she's a bird," was Burns's paradoxical verdict two hours
later. The "trying out" had merged into a smooth run of forty-five miles
at not anything like the full pace of which the motor was capable. "Best
not to overheat her at first. Run your first three hundred miles with
consideration for her vital organs--she'll have her wind by that time."

Next morning four women, long-coated, tissue-veiled, watched the brown
beauty roll invitingly up to Macauley's porch steps.

As she crossed the lawn with Winifred, Pauline Hempstead, the guest
of the Chesters, was studying not only the car, but the undeniably
attractive gray-clad figure of the lately-arrived younger sister of Mrs.
Macauley. "Will Red P. look