IN WHICH HE ASSUMES A RESPONSIBILITY


"Red, the new car is here. Come and look her over."

It was Burns's neighbour on the other side, James Macauley,
Junior. R. P. Burns laid down his saw, with which in the late
June twilight he had been doing vigorous work at a small
woodpile behind the house. He stood up straight, throwing
back his shoulders to take the kink out of them.

"All right," said he. "I think I'm fit for general society
again. I wasn't when I tackled this job. Nothing like
fifteen minutes of woodpile for taking the temper out of the
saw -and the man."

Macauley, a stout, good-humoured fellow of thirty-five,
laughed. "That temper of yours, Red has it been on the
rampage again?"

"It has. Don't talk about it or it'll lift to confounded red
head again - it's only scotched for the present. New car's
here, eh?"

"Yes, and the pretty widow's here, too - my wife's sister,
Ellen Lessing. We ve a great plan for tomorrow, Red. I can't
venture to drive this elephant of a car yet, but the women are
wild for a trip in her. She holds seven. Martha wants you to
drive us and the Chesters to-morrow a hundred and fifty miles