“Yes, you can have that if you really want it. Let me give you a hint of the other guests. The beautiful woman is Katherine Dallas. She’s about to be married to our next-door neighbour. He isn’t here to-night. But one of his house guests is here. That tall, thin man,—he’s Harper Ames.” I thanked her for her hints, though I wasn’t terribly interested. But it’s good to know a little about new acquaintances, and often prevents unfortunate speeches. Especially with me. For I’ve a shocking habit of saying the wrong thing and making enemies thereby. At the table I found myself seated at my hostess’s right hand and the beautiful Mrs. Dallas on my other side. It was a comfortable sort of party. The conversation, while not specially brilliant, was unforced and gayly bantering. Two youngsters were present, who added their flapper slang to the general fund of amusement. These two were Posy May and Dick Hardy, and though apparently about twenty they seemed to have world-wide knowledge and world-old wisdom. “My canoe upset this afternoon,” Posy told the company with an air of being a heroine. “You upset it on purpose,” declared Dick. “Didn’t, either. I turned around too quickly——” “Yes, and if I hadn’t been on the job you’d be turning around there yet.” “Posy,” Keeley said, reproachfully, “you must be more careful. Deep Lake is one of the deepest and most treacherous lakes in all Wisconsin. Now, don’t cut up silly tricks in a canoe.” “Oh, I know how to manage a canoe.” “You managed to upset,” said Lora Moore, accusingly, and pretty Posy changed the subject. After dinner there was a little bridge, but the youngsters were going to a dance, and Mrs. Dallas seemed to want to go home early, so Ames carried her off, and our own quartet was left alone. I was glad of it, for I like a chat with a few better than the rattle of the crowd. And it was not very long before Lora and Mrs. Merrill left us, and Keeley and I had the porch to ourselves. “Pleasant people,” I said, by way of being decently gracious. “Good enough,” he agreed. “To-morrow, Gray, we’ll fish. It’s open season for everything now and the limits are generous. Except muskellonge. You may bag only one per day of those. But trout, all kinds, bass, all kinds, pickerel, rock sturgeon—oh, we’ll have the biggest time!” “Sounds good to me,” I returned, heartily. “I’m happy to be here, old scout, and we’ll fish and all that, but don’t put yourself about to entertain me.” “I sha’n’t; but you must fall in with Lora’s plans, won’t you? I mean, seem pleased to attend her kettledrums and whatnot, even if it bores you.” “Of course I will. Your lady’s word is law. She’s a brick, isn’t she?” “Yes,” and Moore smiled happily at my somewhat crude compliment. “She’s just that. And such a help in my work.” “Your detective work?”