Part 13 (1/2)

”You know each other, then,” she rather stated than asked as there was a lull in the conversation ”I had no idea--”

”Of course you hadn't,” agreed her son, as he took the vacant seat beside her and turned upon her a pair of very handsoo, and we haven't been acquainted more than a few hours”

”Your son did us the favor of helping us out of a difficulty this afternoon,” Mrs Ford explained, taking pity on the lady's bewilderreeable operation of putting a new tire on the front wheel of our car”

”Oh, so that's it,” laughed Mrs Barnes

”Mother, what do you say to cutting out cere down to brass tacks?” put in Joe Barnes, eyeing hungrily the plate of stea soup the maid had set before him

”We don't serve them,” said his mother demurely ”But I shouldn't wonder if e have would prove estible”

So Joe Barnes entertained them with fun and jokes while he devoured the different courses with a thoroughness that awoke the adirls

But no s set before him, there was not a moment when he was not conscious of Betty--Betty on the other side of the table, di him back sally for sally with ready wit What lucky chance had prompted nature to send a thunderstorm that afternoon? The jolly old lady was certainly on his side!

Then when Joe had decided that nothing re rooraph

The Barnes had a collection of very wonderful records, and for irls sat entranced as, one by one, Joe produced for their enjoyreatest artists of the ested that Betty play sos they had loved in those service-filled days at the Hostess House As the girlish voices rang out in one patriotic song after another, Joe Barnes, as seated on the edge of a table with one foot swinging idly, fidgeted uneasily, while over his face came a sober, almost sullen expression

”Gee, I wish they wouldn't!” he murmured to himself

CHAPTER XI

MYSTERY

Betty presently broke into the opening strains of ”There's a long, long road awinding,” and the girlish voices took it up eagerly They put into the ot where they were, the pleasant rooray line of trenches, trenches that were death traps for the flowering youth of A to the boys, their boys, and as she listened Mrs Ford's eyes filled with tears

Nor was she the only one of that little audience who could not listen to the song un in his throat, and as the hot tears stung his eyes he rose hastily and stood staring at, though not seeing, a great picture of so over theat her son, pressed a hand over her heart, as though to still a hurt, while in her eyes grew a look of yearning

”My poor, poor boy!” she irls, all unaware of the eering close and stood quiet for a ers rested on the keys Then--

”That was very beautiful,” said Mrs Barnes, trying to speak in a ether”

”We ought to,” said Betty, forcing a lightness she did not feel, for as usual she was the first to sense the tense quality in the ath We used to sing for the soldier boys at the Hostess House alht”

”Yes, but it was so,” added Amy