r. Glotch
welcomed with a stentorian shout ably echoed by Mr. Trumpeter, each of
whom fell to and consumed a bottle with much assumption of inebriety.
After dissembling complete disintegration and coma, Mr. Glotch raised
his head from the ground and mourned, "Oh, boy! The guy that named
this juice sure was a bum judge of distance." "You said it," echoed
Mr. Trumpeter, and they were rewarded by a series of titters from the
ladies which encouraged them into still further excesses.

Joe felt weary. He was fortunately deaf to much of what went on about
him, being concerned in the baffling mystery of Myrtle's behaviour.
Was she provoked at him? Surely not. Was Hawkins, perhaps an erstwhile
rival, putting in a bid for first honours? She was paying no attention
to Hawkins whatever. Had he been talking too much with Miss Ardle or
the coy Miss Penny? Perhaps all she needed was waking up.

They had demolished the lunch and were sitting about the wreckage in
mournful speculation of its vanished glories; Myrtle was seated
between the two comedians; Joe between the two ladies; Hawkins some
distance in the background, on a rock. With no warning whatever Joe
sprang to his feet, strode over to the lovely Myrtle in her filmy
white dress, and picked her bodily from the ground.

"Let's go swimming," he shouted before a single member of the crowd
could give utterance.

He carried her in a couple of strides to the edge of the little stream
and there held her threateningly over the bank. The two young men
shouted approval and Myrtle began to squirm. At first she demanded
coyly to be set down, and then with more sharpness in her tone. Joe
looked into her eyes. They were unfathomable. Her peach-bloom cheeks
were quite pink. But there were a few tiny wrinkles about her mouth
that he had never seen before. Made her look older, somehow. He
softened, for the lovely burden was becoming delightfully heavy.

"Think I'd better not?" he addressed the crowd.

"Go on," urged Mr. Glotch.

"Oh, well," he decided, "perhaps we'll only go in wading." He reached
clumsily down to her foot for her slipper.

She squirmed and flushed deeper. "Don't!" she cried. "Don't, Joe!"

He disregarded her. Her foot dangled out in front, in full view; it
was difficult to reach it without letting her slip and with her
struggling. But he finally succeeded. He caught the French heel in a
sudden swipe and the slipper went scudding off into the bushes.
Immediately she d