white and blue, and-"

"Red, white and blue?" chorused the other three men.

"Yes. Very patriotic. His friends don't know whether he's honoring
Uncle Sam or the French Republic. However, it's all the same. His
car is a wonder."

"I must have a brush with him !" murmured Captain Poland.

"Don't. You'll lose out," advised Garrigan. "It can do eighty on
fourth speed, and Carwell is sporty enough to slip it into that gear
if he needed to."

"Um! Guess I'll wait until I get my new machine, then," decided the
captain.

There was more talk, but Bartlett gradually dropped out of the
conversation and went to walk about the club grounds.

Maraposa was a social, as well as a golfing, club, and the scene of
many dances and other affairs. It lay a few miles back from the shore
near Lakeside, in New Jersey. The clubhouse was large and elaborate,
and the grounds around it were spacious and well laid out.

Not far away was Loch Harbor, where the yachts of the club of which
Captain Gerry Poland was president anchored, and a mile or so in the
opposite direction was Lake Tacoma, on the shore of which was Lakeside.
A rather exclusive colony summered there, the hotel numbering many
wealthy persons among its patrons.