"Ugh-h-h!" moaned Jack. "It hurts!" Then with a change of voice he answered George enthusiastically: "Dandy! Just as warm and nice as anything!" George sighed. "Golly! Wisht I was a kid again! There sure is no place like the old swimmin'-hole in the good old summer-time!" Rosie glared indignantly. "Jarge Riley, ain't you ashamed of yourself! It's dangerous to go in swimming and you know it is! Jackie's never going in again, are you, Jackie?" Jack snuffled tearfully: "My back hurts! Can't some o' you do something for it?" Rosie turned stiffly to George. "What I called you up here for was to ask you what's good for a sunburnt back." "Excuse me," murmured George meekly. "Let's see now: We ought to put on some oil or grease, then some powder or flour." "Will lard do?" Rosie still spoke coldly. "Yes, but vaseline would be better. There's a bottle of vaseline on my bureau. Do you want to get it, Rosie?" Rosie hurried off and returned just in time to hear George say: "Oh, you can go in again in two or three days." Rosie blazed on him furiously. "Jarge Riley, what are you telling Jackie?" "I?" He spoke with an assumption of innocence and that look of guilelessness which Rosie was fast learning to associate with male deceit. "I was just telling him it would take a couple o' days for his back to peel. Then he'll be all right again." Rosie looked at him in scorn, but made no comment. She resolved one thing: George Riley should have no more moments alone with Jack. When the time came, she made him go downstairs for the flour-shaker, then curtly dismissed him. "I guess you can go now, Jarge. Jackie wants to go to sleep. Now, Jackie dear, just lie on your stummick and you'll be asleep in two minutes." George hesitated a moment. "Didn't you say you wanted to see me about something, Rosie?" Rosie looked at him steadily. "If ever I said that it was before I knew you as well as I know you now. Now they isn't anything I want to say to you." George gasped helplessly and departed, and Rosie, after settling Jack comfortably, blew out the candle.... So even George Riley had joined the conspiracy against her! Well, she was not done fighting yet. She insisted upon making an invalid of Jack the next morning, keeping him in bed and carrying up his breakfast to him. All day long, she waited on him, hand and foot, loved, amused, coaxed, threatened, bribed him, until by evening she had him weak and helpless, ready to agree to anything she might suggest. At supper Mrs. O'Brien beamed on him sympathetically and remarked to Ellen, who was just home from business college: "Ellen dear, do you know the awful back o' sunburn poor wee Jack's got on him? Rosie's been nursing him all day." Ellen glanced at Terry and laughed. "Do you remember, Terry, how you used to come home after your first swim every summer?" Jack looked up eagerly. "Oh, Terry, did you used to get sunburned, too?" Terry nodded. "Sure I did. Every fella does."