"Looks that way, don't it?" he grinned apologetically. "I've been in Philadelphia on a big order--Landed it, too!" he added in irrepressible triumph. "Which is more than I did," sighed Joan; and guessing from her expression that a jest was intended, Mr. Blair laughed long and loudly. He was always very keen on the scent of a jest. CHAPTER XIX It was owing to this fortuitous train journey that one night, some weeks later, Mr. Archibald Blair found himself moving in what he considered very high society indeed. In the years when he had peddled papers on the street corners, or padded around with them on thin and sturdy legs of a Sabbath dawn, so that the world might have its news with its coffee and griddle-cakes for breakfast, Archie had amused himself and added to his mastery of his native tongue by reading an occasional account of a Galt House Ball. "Social Event of the Season Magnificent Affair Given Last Evening To Mark The Début into Society of" etc., etc. And here he was himself, part and parcel of a Galt House Ball! It was quite amazing. Archibald Blair was no snob; but to him, as to many another of the world's workers, "Society" represented a world apart, a sort of fairyland in which creatures of an order far superior to ordinary humans lived and moved and had their lovely being--feminine creatures, of course. About the male of the species he had no illusions. They were merely the same Charlies, Toms, and Georges one knew down town, and with whom one had played baseball or marbles or shinny, transformed by glad rags (the language is Archie's) into temporary black-tailed butterflies. They did not fool him for a moment. When he caught a familiar and surprised eye belonging to one of them, which he did more than once, he grinned and winked. In return, the owner of the eye called out, "Why, hello, Arch!" or, "Glad to see you, Blair!" in very friendly fashion, for Archibald was a popular youth among his acquaintance. But they did not introduce him to their girls. Archie was not chagrined. On the rare occasions when he took Miss Emma from the cashier's desk, or Miss Grace, the prettiest office stenographer, to a dance-hall, he was careful himself about whom he introduced to them. Fellows were often well enough with fellows, when they wouldn't do for one's lady-friends. Girls had to be choosy. (Again the language is Archibald's.)