"I don't think Montague will approve," said Stephanie. "I told him Marcia Emerson's story, and he laughed at my fears--though admitting there _had been_ a difficulty and that I had to do with it. Then I also told him of the walk with Porshinger and of Overton's bull; and while he didn't say much, I could see that he didn't like it." "All of which goes to prove his affection for you--if you doubt it," Gladys remarked. Stephanie smiled an answer but did not voice it--and Gladys put her arm around her friend's neck and was silent also for a moment. Presently she said: "Was Montague actually averse to Porshinger's being asked to Criss-Cross?" "In a mild sort of way, yes--but nothing vehement, I assure you." "It isn't Montague's way to be vehement," Gladys observed. "At any rate, I think we'll try the experiment. I'll ask him over to-morrow in time for tea, explaining that we need another man--and so boost him up the wall a bit. We can size up the situation--his amenability to kind treatment principally--and if it's not promising we need go no further with him. But I'm inclined to the notion that being nice to him will be exceedingly effective. He impressed you as well-mannered and fairly agreeable, didn't he?" Stephanie nodded. "So far as I could judge superficially he is no different from the men we've known always. I found him very pleasant and courteous. Whether it was natural with him or only company manners I didn't try to find out." "Naturally not.--Well, we'll turn the wild animal loose among the tame ones and see what happens. _We_ can at least enjoy the fun.--_You_ don't object, my dear?" "Not in the least!" Stephanie laughed. * * * * * * * The following morning Woodside came out on his piazza, a queer look on his face. "You're wanted on the telephone," said he to Porshinger, who was sitting looking out over the valley. "Mr. Porshinger, this is Miss Chamberlain," said a particularly sweet voice, when he had answered. "Yes, Miss Chamberlain, how do you do?" said he. "I want to know if you won't come over to Criss-Cross this afternoon and join us at tea, and stay for dinner and the night? Mr. Woodside has been exceedingly nice and says he will excuse you--now you be equally nice and _come_, won't you?" "Why certainly, certainly--I shall be delighted," Porshinger responded; "but I can't stay the night. I'm going back to town on the midnight train. I must be there early in the morning." "That's _very_ good of you--we shall be glad to have you for the evening--at five o'clock then--good bye, Mr. Porshinger!" Porshinger hung up the receiver and went slowly out to Woodside, who was smoking like a chimney. The latter glanced at him with a shrewd smile. "Getting on, aren't you?" he remarked. "I don't know whether I'm getting on or getting under," Porshinger replied. "You're getting both, I should say. It won't be long until they have you under hack with the rest of the men."