sitting-room above--and letting himself down into the chair slowly and
with extreme care and crossing his legs. "I got a sudden invitation
from Reggie Atwater to--"

"You know I do not approve of that young scape-grace!"

"I know you don't. I suppose that's one reason I didn't tell you
beforehand what I was up to."

"What have you been doing?"

"Reggie asked me to go on a long trip to try out his new car. It's
a hummer. Hundred-and-twenty horse-power--bloody-eyed, fire-spitting
devil--"

"Such cars are dangerous," severely commented Mrs. De Peyster, who
still kept to her horses and carriage as better maintaining old-family
distinction.

"I know. That's another reason I didn't tell you--especially since we
were planning a thousand-mile lark."

"What's the matter with your hands?" suddenly demanded Mrs. De
Peyster.

Jack gazed meditatively at the bandaged members.

"You were right about that car being dangerous, mother," said he.
"I'll confess the whole business. We were whizzing around a corner
coming into Yonkers this morning when the machine skidded. I did a