Miss Knight departed. Mr. Jones sat down in the only chair and Kelly made preparations to rest his huge form on the bed of the injured one. Joe viewed this arrangement with alarm. "Don't you sit on my broken leg, you hippopotamus," he protested. Kelly withdrew so hastily that he nearly knocked Mr. Jones off his chair. "Mike, go over there and get that other chair. Don't try to rob a little fellow like Jonesy," Joe told him. Pain swathed the features of Mr. Jones. To be publicly addressed as "Jonesy" was bad enough, but when coupled with an insulting reference to his size, it was too much. Kelly finally seated himself by the invalid's head and remarked with a smile of pleasure, "Joe, they tell me you're about dead. Is there anything in it?" "Listen to words of warning," suggested the injured man. "Even with my game leg, it would take a bigger man than you to put me out of business." Kelly disregarded the challenge. "Is there any truth in the report that landing on your head is all that saved you?" Joe grunted in disdain and Mr. Jones openly yawned at such commonplace humor. Regardless of popular displeasure, Kelly went on. "I understand that your head ruined the truck?" "Mike, you are a heavy kidder." Joe smiled affectionately at his big friend. "Your conversation is usually agreeable, sometimes interesting, but never reliable. You guessed wrong about a truck. I ran into a seven passenger touring car." "Ha, a chariot of the awful rich. In the excitement did you surreptitiously abstract any diamonds, tires, gasoline or other valuables shaken loose by your dome?" "No such luck, Mike. There was only a girl in the car." "The priceless jewel of the Isle of Swat and you did not kidnap it?" exclaimed Kelly. Mr. Jones displayed a superior interest. "Was she beautiful?" he inquired. "Was she beautiful?" mimicked Kelly. "She must have been. That's why Joe tried to make a hit." He leaned over the motorcyclist. "For once I am proud of you, young man. You used your head." Mr. Jones displayed extreme animation. "By Jove," he laughed. "Possibly the lady thought that Mr. Curtis was butting in." Kelly inspected the stenographer with great intentness. "Good morning, old top. When did you wake up?" "Your kidding is contagious, Mike. Jonesy has caught it," chuckled Joe. "No, you don't understand the nature of the brute. It's not me--it's the ladies. Jones awakens at a reference to them and blossoms beneath their smiles," explained Kelly. A gentle look spread over Joe's face. "The girl I ran into happened to be the right sort. She stuck by me when I was hurt and helped to bring me here--" He paused for a moment and then continued, "Let's not talk about her in this room full of men."