THE SCARLET CAR

BY

RICHARD HARDING DAVIS

TO
NED STONE

CONTENTS

THE JAIL-BREAKERS
THE TRESPASSERS
THE KIDNAPPERS

THE SCARLET CAR

I

THE JAIL-BREAKERS

For a long time it had been arranged they all should go to the Harvardand Yale game in Winthrop's car. It was perfectly well understood.Even Peabody,dress up clothes for 3 year olds under 10 dollars who pictured himself and Miss Forbes in the back of thecar, with her brother and Winthrop in front, condescended to approve.It was necessary to invite Peabody because it was his great goodfortune to be engaged to Miss Forbes. Her brother Sam had beeninvited, not only because he could act as chaperon for his sister, butbecause since they were at St. Paul's, Winthrop and he, either asparticipants or spectators, had never missed going together to theYale-Harvard game. And Beatrice Forbes herself had been invitedbecause she was herself.

When at nine o'clock on the morning of the game, Winthrop stopped thecar in front of her door, he was in love with all the world. In theNovember air there was a sting like frost-bitten cider, in the skythere was a brilliant, beautiful sun, in the wind was the tinglingtouch of three ice-chilled rivers. And in the big house facing CentralPark, outside of which his prancing steed of brass and scarlet chuggedand protested and trembled with impatience, was the most wonderful girlin all the world. It was true she was engaged to be married, and notto him. But she was not yet married. And to-day it would be hisprivilege to carry her through the State of New York and the State ofConnecticut, and he would snatch glimpses of her profile rising fromthe rough fur collar, of her wind-blown hair, of the long, lovelylashes under the gray veil.

"'Shall be together, breathe and ride, so, one day more am I deified;'"whispered the young man in the Scarlet Car; "'who knows but the worldmay end to-night?'"

As he waited at the curb, other great touring-cars, of every speed andshape, in the mad race for the Boston Post Road, and the town of NewHaven, swept up Fifth Avenue. Some rolled and puffed like tugboats ina heavy seaway, others glided by noiseless and proud as private yachts.But each flew the colors of blue or crimson.

Winthrop's car, because her brother had gone to one college, and he hadplayed right end for the other, was draped impartially. And so everyother car mocked or cheered it, and in one a bare-headed youth stoodup, and shouted to his fellows: "Look! there's Billy Winthrop! Threetimes three for old Billy Winthrop!" And they lashed the air withflags, and sent his name echoing over Central Park.

Winthrop grinned in embarrassment, and waved his hand. A bicycle cop,and Fred, the chauffeur, were equally impressed.

"Was they the Harvoids, sir?" asked Fred.

"They was," said Winthrop.

Her brother Sam came down the steps carrying sweaters and steamer-rugs.But he wore no holiday countenance.

"What do you think?" he demanded indignantly. "Ernest Peabody's insidemaking trouble. His sister has a Pullman on one of the special trains,and he wants Beatrice to go with her."

In spite of his furs, the young man in the car turned quite cold. "Notwith us?" he gasped.

Miss Forbes appeared at the house door, followed by Ernest Peabody. Hewore an expression of disturbed dignity; she one of distressedamusement. That she also wore her automobile coat caused the heart ofWinthrop to leap hopefully.

"Winthrop," said Peabody, "I am in rather an embarrassing position. Mysister, Mrs. Taylor Holbrooke"—he spoke the name as though he wereannouncing it at the door of a drawing-room—"desires Miss Forbes to gowith her. She feels accidents are apt to occur with motor cars—andthere are no other ladies in your party—and the crowds——"

Winthrop carefully avoided looking at Miss Forbes. "I should be verysorry," he murmured.

"Ernest!" said Miss Forbes, "I explained it was impossible for me to gowith your sister. We would be extremely rude to Mr. Winthrop. How doyou wish us to sit?" she asked.

She mounted to the rear seat, and made room opposite her for Peabody.

"Do I understand, Beatrice," began Peabody in a tone that instantlymade every one extremely uncomfortable, "that I am to tell my sisteryou are not coming?"

"Ernest!" begged Miss Forbes.

Winthrop bent hastily over the oil valves. He read the speedometer,which was, as usual, out of order, with fascinated interest.

"Ernest," pleaded Miss Forbes,

"Mr. Winthrop and Sam planned this trip for us a long time ago—to giveus a little pleasure——"

"Then," said Peabody in a hollow voice, "you have decided?"

"Ernest," cried Miss Forbes, "don't look at me as though you meant tohurl the curse of Rome. I have. Jump in. Please!"

"I will bid you good-by," said Peabody; "I have only just time to catchour train."

Miss Forbes rose and moved to the door of the car.

"I had better not go with any one," she said in a low voice.

"You will go with me," commanded her brother. "Come on, Ernest."

"Thank you, no," replied Peabody. "I have promised my sister."

"All right, then," exclaimed Sam briskly, "see you at the game.Section H. Don't forget. Let her out, Billy."

With a troubled countenance Winthrop bent forward and clasped theclutch.

"Better come, Peabody," he said.

"I thank you, no," repeated Peabody. "I must go with my sister."

As the car glided forward Brother Sam sighed heavily.

"My! but he's got a mean disposition," he said. "He has quite spoiledMY day."

He chuckled wickedly, but Winthrop pretended not to hear, and hissister maintained an expression of utter dejection.

But to maintain an expression of utter dejection is very difficult whenthe sun is shining, when you are flying at the rate of forty miles anhour, and when in the cars you pass foolish youths wave Yale flags atyou, and take advantage of the day to cry: "Three cheers for the girlin the blue hat!"

And to entirely remove the last trace of the gloom that Peabody hadforced upon them, it was necessary only for a tire to burst. Of coursefor this effort, the tire chose the coldest and most fiercely windsweptportion of the Pelham Road, where from the broad waters of the Soundpneumonia and the grip raced rampant, and where to the touch a steelwrench was not to be distinguished from a piece of ice. But before thewheels had ceased to complain, Winthrop and Fred were out of their furcoats, down on their knees, and jacking up the axle.

"On an expedition of this sort," said Brother Sam, "whatever happens,take it as a joke. Fortunately," he explained, "I don't understandfixing inner tubes, so I will get out and smoke. I have noticed thatwhen a car breaks down, there is always one man who paces up and downthe road and smokes. His hope is to fool passing cars into thinkingthat the people in his car stopped to admire the view."

Recognizing the annual football match as intended solely to replenishthe town coffers, the thrifty townsfolk of Rye, with bicycles and redflags, were, as usual, and regardless of the speed at which it moved,levying tribute on every second car that entered their hospitableboundaries. But before the Scarlet Car reached Rye, small boys of thetown, possessed of a sporting spirit, or of an inherited instinct forgraft, were waiting to give a noisy notice of the ambush. And so,fore-warned, the Scarlet Car crawled up the main street of Rye asdemurely as a baby-carriage, and then, having safely reached a pointdirectly in front of the police station, with a loud and ostentatiousreport, blew up another tire.

"Well," said Sam crossly, "they can't arrest US for speeding."

"Whatever happens," said his sister, "take it as a joke."

Two miles outside of Stamford, Brother Sam burst into open mutiny.

"Every car in the United States has passed us," he declared. "We won'tget there, at this rate, till the end of the first half. Hit her up,can't you, Billy?"

"She seems to have an illness," said Winthrop unhappily. "I think I'dsave time if I stopped now and fixed her."

Shamefacedly Fred and he hid themselves under the body of the car, anda sound of hammering and stentorian breathing followed. Of them allthat was visible was four feet beating a tattoo on the road. MissForbes got out Winthrop's camera, and took a snap-shot of the scene.

"I will call it," she said, "The Idle Rich."

Brother Sam gazed morosely in the direction of New Haven. They hadhalted within fifty yards of the railroad tracks, and as each specialtrain, loaded with happy enthusiasts, raced past them he groaned.

"The only one of us that showed any common sense was Ernest," hedeclared, "and you turned him down. I am going to take a trolley toStamford, and the first train to New Haven."

"You are not," said his sister; "I will not desert Mr. Winthrop, andyou cannot desert me."

Brother Sam sighed, and seated himself on a rock.

"Do you think, Billy," he asked, "you can get us to Cambridge in timefor next year's game?"

The car limped into Stamford, and while it went into drydock at thegarage, Brother Sam fled to the railroad station, where he learned thatfor the next two hours no train that recognized New Haven spoke toStamford.

"That being so," said Winthrop, "while we are waiting for the car, wehad better get a quick lunch now, and then push on."

"Push," exclaimed Brother Sam darkly, "is what we are likely to do."

After behaving with perfect propriety for half an hour, just outside ofBridgeport the Scarlet Car came to a slow and sullen stop, and oncemore the owner and the chauffeur hid their shame beneath it, andattacked its vitals. Twenty minutes later, while they still were atwork, there approached from Bridgeport a young man in a buggy. When hesaw the mass of college colors on the Scarlet Car, he pulled his horsedown to a walk, and as he passed raised his hat.

"At the end of the first half," he said, "the score was a tie."

"Don't mention it," said Brother Sam.

"Now," he cried, "we've got to turn back, and make for New York. If westart quick, we may get there ahead of the last car to leave New Haven."

"I am going to New Haven, and in this car," declared his sister. "Imust go—to meet Ernest."

"If Ernest has as much sense as he showed this morning," returned heraffectionate brother, "Ernest will go to his Pullman and stay there.As I told you, the only sure way to get anywhere is by railroad train."

When they passed through Bridgeport it was so late that the electriclights of Fairview Avenue were just beginning to sputter and glow inthe twilight, and as they came along the shore road into New Haven, thefirst car out of New Haven in the race back to New York leaped at themwith siren shrieks of warning, and dancing, dazzling eyes. It passedlike a thing driven by the Furies; and before the Scarlet Car couldswing back into what had been an empty road, in swift pursuit of thefirst came many more cars, with blinding searchlights, with a roar ofthrobbing, thrashing engines, flying pebbles, and whirling wheels. Andbehind these, stretching for a twisted mile, came hundreds of others;until the road was aflame with flashing Will-o'-the-wisps, dancingfireballs, and long, shifting shafts of light.

Miss Forbes sat in front, beside Winthrop, and it pleased her toimagine, as they bent forward, peering into the night, that togetherthey were facing so many fiery dragons, speeding to give them battle,to grind them under their wheels. She felt the elation of great speed,of imminent danger. Her blood tingled with the air from the wind-sweptharbor, with the rush of the great engines, as by a handbreadth theyplunged past her. She knew they were driven by men and half-grownboys, joyous with victory, piqued by defeat, reckless by one touch toomuch of liquor, and that the young man at her side was driving, notonly for himself, but for them.

Each fraction of a second a dazzling light blinded him, and he swervedto let the monster, with a hoarse, bellowing roar, pass by, and thenagain swept his car into the road. And each time for greaterconfidence she glanced up into his face.

Throughout the mishaps of the day he had been deeply concerned for hercomfort, sorry for her disappointment, under Brother Sam's indignantironies patient, and at all times gentle and considerate. Now, in thelight from the onrushing cars, she noted his alert, laughing eyes, thebroad shoulders bent across the wheel, the lips smiling with excitementand in the joy of controlling, with a turn of the wrist, a power equalto sixty galloping horses. She found in his face much comfort. And inthe fact that for the moment her safety lay in his hands, a sense ofpleasure. That this was her feeling puzzled and disturbed her, for toErnest Peabody it seemed, in some way, disloyal. And yet there it was.Of a certainty, there was the secret pleasure in the thought that ifthey escaped unhurt from the trap in which they found themselves, itwould be due to him. To herself she argued that if the chauffeur weredriving, her feeling would be the same, that it was the nerve, theskill, and the coolness, not the man, that moved her admiration. Butin her heart she knew it would not be the same.

At West Haven Green Winthrop turned out of the track of the racingmonsters into a quiet street leading to the railroad station, and witha half-sigh, half-laugh, leaned back comfortably.

"Those lights coming up suddenly make it hard to see," he said.

"Hard to breathe," snorted Sam; "since that first car missed us, Ihaven't drawn an honest breath. I held on so tight that I squeezed thehair out of the cushions."

When they reached the railroad station, and Sam had finally fought hisway to the station master, that half-crazed official informed him hehad missed the departure of Mrs. Taylor Holbrooke's car by just tenminutes.

Brother Sam reported this state of affairs to his companions.

"God knows we asked for the fish first," he said; "so now we've doneour duty by Ernest, who has shamefully deserted us, and we can getsomething to eat, and go home at our leisure. As I have always toldyou, the only way to travel independently is in a touring-car."

At the New Haven House they bought three waiters, body and soul, and,in spite of the fact that in the very next room the team was breakingtraining, obtained an excellent but chaotic dinner; and by eight theywere on their way back to the big city.

The night was grandly beautiful. The waters of the Sound flashed inthe light of a cold, clear moon, which showed them, like pictures insilver print, the sleeping villages through which they passed, theancient elms, the low-roofed cottages, the town hall facing the common.The post road was again empty, and the car moved as steadily as a watch.

"Just because it knows we don't care now when we get there," saidBrother Sam, "you couldn't make it break down with an axe."

From the rear, where he sat with Fred, he announced he was going tosleep, and asked that he be not awakened until the car had crossed theState line between Connecticut and New York. Winthrop doubted if heknew the State line of New York.

"It is where the advertisements for Besse Baker's twenty-seven storescease," said Sam drowsily, "and the billposters of Ethel Barrymorebegin."

In the front of the car the two young people spoke only at intervals,but Winthrop had never been so widely alert, so keenly happy, neverbefore so conscious of her presence.

And it seemed as they glided through the mysterious moonlit world ofsilent villages, shadowy woods, and wind-swept bays and inlets, fromwhich, as the car rattled over the planks of the bridges, the wild duckrose in noisy circles, they alone were awake and living.

The silence had lasted so long that it was as eloquent as words. Theyoung man turned his eyes timorously, and sought those of the girl.What he felt was so strong in him that it seemed incredible she shouldbe ignorant of it. His eyes searched the gray veil. In his voicethere was both challenge and pleading.

"'Shall be together,'" he quoted, "'breathe and ride. So, one day moream I deified; who knows but the world may end to-night?'"

The moonlight showed the girl's eyes shining through the veil, andregarding him steadily.

"If you don't stop this car quick," she said, "the world WILL end forall of us."

He shot a look ahead, and so suddenly threw on the brake that Sam andthe chauffeur tumbled awake. Across the road stretched the great bulkof a touring-car, its lamps burning dully in the brilliance of themoon. Around it, for greater warmth, a half-dozen figures stamped uponthe frozen ground, and beat themselves with their arms. Sam and thechauffeur vaulted into the road, and went toward them.

"It's what you say, and the way you say it," the girl explained. Sheseemed to be continuing an argument. "It makes it so very difficultfor us to play together."

The young man clasped the wheel as though the force he were holding incheck were much greater than sixty horse-power.

"You are not married yet, are you?" he demanded.

The girl moved her head.

"And when you are married, there will probably be an altar from whichyou will turn to walk back up the aisle?"

"Well?" said the girl.

"Well," he answered explosively, "until you turn away from that altar,I do not recognize the right of any man to keep me quiet, or your righteither. Why should I be held by your engagement? I was not consultedabout it. I did not give my consent, did I? I tell you, you are theonly woman in the world I will ever marry, and if you think I am goingto keep silent and watch some one else carry you off without making afight for you, you don't know me."

"If you go on," said the girl, "it will mean that I shall not see youagain."

"Then I will write letters to you."

"I will not read them," said the girl. The young man laughed defiantly.

"Oh, yes, you will read them!" He pounded his gauntleted fist on therim of the wheel. "You mayn't answer them, but if I can write the wayI feel, I will bet you'll read them."

His voice changed suddenly, and he began to plead. It was as thoughshe were some masculine giant bullying a small boy.

"You are not fair to me," he protested. "I do not ask you to be kind,I ask you to be fair. I am fighting for what means more to me thananything in this world, and you won't even listen. Why should Irecognize any other men! All I recognize is that Iam the man wholoves you, that 'I am the man at your feet.' That is all I know, thatI love you."

The girl moved as though with the cold, and turned her head from him.

"I love you," repeated the young man.

The girl breathed like one who has been swimming under water, but, whenshe spoke, her voice was calm and contained.

"Please!" she begged, "don't you see how unfair it is. I can't goaway; I HAVE to listen."

The young man pulled himself upright, and pressed his lips together.

"I beg your pardon," he whispered.

There was for some time an unhappy silence, and then Winthrop addedbitterly: "Methinks the punishment exceeds the offence."

"Do you think you make it easy for ME?" returned the girl.

She considered it most ungenerous of him to sit staring into themoonlight, looking so miserable that it made her heart ache to comforthim, and so extremely handsome that to do so was quite impossible. Shewould have liked to reach out her hand and lay it on his arm, and tellhim she was sorry, but she could not. He should not have looked sounnecessarily handsome.

Sam came running toward them with five grizzly bears, who balancedthemselves apparently with some slight effort upon their hind legs.The grizzly bears were properly presented as: "Tommy Todd, of myclass, and some more like him. And," continued Sam, "I am going toquit you two and go with them. Tom's car broke down, but Fred fixedit, and both our cars can travel together. Sort of convoy," heexplained.

His sister signalled eagerly, but with equal eagerness he retreatedfrom her.

"Believe me," he assured her soothingly, "I am just as good a chaperonfifty yards behind you, and wide awake, as I am in the same car andfast asleep. And, besides, I want to hear about the game. And, what'smore, two cars are much safer than one. Suppose you two break down ina lonely place? We'll be right behind you to pick you up. You willkeep Winthrop's car in sight, won't you, Tommy?" he said.

The grizzly bear called Tommy, who had been examining the Scarlet Car,answered doubtfully that the only way he could keep it in sight was bytying a rope to it.

"That's all right, then," said Sam briskly, "Winthrop will go slow."

So the Scarlet Car shot forward with sometimes the second car so far inthe rear that they could only faintly distinguish the horn begging themto wait, and again it would follow so close upon their wheels that theyheard the five grizzly bears chanting beseechingly

Oh, bring this wagon home, John,
It will not hold us a-all.

For some time there was silence in the Scarlet Car, and then Winthropbroke it by laughing.

"First, I lose Peabody," he explained, "then I lose Sam, and now, afterI throw Fred overboard, I am going to drive you into Stamford, wherethey do not ask runaway couples for a license, and marry you."

The girl smiled comfortably. In that mood she was not afraid of him.

She lifted her face, and stretched out her arms as though she weredrinking in the moonlight.

"It has been such a good day," she said simply, "and I am really sovery happy."

"I shall be equally frank," said Winthrop. "So am I."

For two hours they had been on the road, and were just enteringFairport. For some long time the voices of the pursuing grizzlies hadbeen lost in the far distance.

"The road's up," said Miss Forbes.

She pointed ahead to two red lanterns.

"It was all right this morning," exclaimed Winthrop.

The car was pulled down to eight miles an hour, and, trembling andsnorting at the indignity, nosed up to the red lanterns.

They showed in a ruddy glow the legs of two men.

"You gotta stop!" commanded a voice.

"Why?" asked Winthrop.

The voice became embodied in the person of a tall man, with a longovercoat and a drooping mustache.

"'Cause I tell you to!" snapped the tall man.

Winthrop threw a quick glance to the rear. In that direction for amile the road lay straight away. He could see its entire length, andit was empty. In thinking of nothing but Miss Forbes, he had forgottenthe chaperon. He was impressed with the fact that the immediatepresence of a chaperon was desirable. Directly in front of the car,blocking its advance, were two barrels, with a two-inch plank saggingheavily between them. Beyond that the main street of Fairport laysteeped in slumber and moonlight.

"I am a selectman," said the one with the lantern. "You been exceedin'our speed limit."

The chauffeur gave a gasp that might have been construed to mean thatthe charge amazed and shocked him.

"That is not possible," Winthrop answered. "I have been going veryslow—on purpose—to allow a disabled car to keep up with me."

The selectman looked down the road.

"It ain't kep' up with you," he said pointedly.

"It has until the last few minutes."

"It's the last few minutes we're talking about," returned the man whohad not spoken. He put his foot on the step of the car.

"What are you doing?" asked Winthrop.

"I am going to take you to Judge Allen's. I am chief of police. Youare under arrest."

Before Winthrop rose moving pictures of Miss Forbes appearing in adirty police station before an officious Dogberry, and, as he and hiscar were well known along the Post road, appearing the next morning inthe New York papers. "William Winthrop," he saw the printed words,"son of Endicott Winthrop, was arrested here this evening, with a youngwoman who refused to give her name, but who was recognized as MissBeatrice Forbes, whose engagement to Ernest Peabody, the Reformcandidate on the Independent ticket——"

And, of course, Peabody would blame her.

"If I have exceeded your speed limit," he said politely, "I shall bedelighted to pay the fine. How much is it?"

"Judge Allen'll tell you what the fine is," said the selectman gruffly."And he may want bail."

"Bail?" demanded Winthrop. "Do you mean to tell me he will detain ushere?"

"He will, if he wants to," answered the chief of police combatively.

For an instant Winthrop sat gazing gloomily ahead, overcome apparentlyby the enormity of his offence. He was calculating whether, if herammed the two-inch plank, it would hit the car or Miss Forbes. Hedecided swiftly it would hit his new two-hundred-dollar lamps. Asswiftly he decided the new lamps must go. But he had read of guardiansof the public safety so regardless of private safety as to try topuncture runaway tires with pistol bullets. He had no intention ofsubjecting Miss Forbes to a fusillade.

So he whirled upon the chief of police:

"Take your hand off that gun!" he growled. "How dare you threaten me?"

Amazed, the chief of police dropped from the step and advancedindignantly.

"Me?" he demanded. "I ain't got a gun. What you mean by——"

With sudden intelligence, the chauffeur precipitated himself upon thescene.

"It's the other one," he shouted. He shook an accusing finger at theselectman. "He pointed it at the lady."

To Miss Forbes the realism of Fred's acting was too convincing. Tolearn that one is covered with a loaded revolver is disconcerting.Miss Forbes gave a startled squeak, and ducked her head.

Winthrop roared aloud at the selectman.

"How dare you frighten the lady!" he cried. "Take your hand off thatgun."

"What you talkin' about?" shouted the selectman. "The idea of myhavin' a gun! I haven't got a——"

"All right, Fred!" cried Winthrop. "Low bridge."

There was a crash of shattered glass and brass, of scattered barrelstaves, the smell of escaping gas, and the Scarlet Car was flyingdrunkenly down the main street.

"What are they doing now, Fred?" called the owner.

Fred peered over the stern of the flying car.

"The constable's jumping around the road," he replied, "and the longone's leaning against a tree. No, he's climbing the tree. I can'tmake out WHAT he's doing."

"Iknow!" cried Miss Forbes; her voice vibrated with excitement.Defiance of the law had thrilled her with unsuspected satisfaction; hereyes were dancing. "There was a telephone fastened to the tree, a handtelephone. They are sending word to some one. They're trying to headus off."

Winthrop brought the car to a quick halt.

"We're in a police trap!" he said. Fred leaned forward and whisperedto his employer. His voice also vibrated with the joy of the chase.

"This'll be our THIRD arrest," he said. "That means——"

"I know what it means," snapped Winthrop. "Tell me how we can get outof here."

"We can't get out of here, sir, unless we go back. Going south, thebridge is the only way out."

"The bridge!" Winthrop struck the wheel savagely with his knuckles. "Iforgot their confounded bridge!" He turned to Miss Forbes. "Fairportis a sort of island," he explained.

"But after we're across the bridge," urged the chauffeur, "we needn'tkeep to the post road no more. We can turn into Stone Ridge, andstrike south to White Plains. Then——"

"We haven't crossed the bridge yet," growled Winthrop. His voice hadnone of the joy of the others; he was greatly perturbed. "Look back,"he commanded, "and see if there is any sign of those boys."

He was now quite willing to share responsibility. But there was nosign of the Yale men, and, unattended, the Scarlet Car crept warilyforward. Ahead of it, across the little reed-grown inlet, stretchedtheir road of escape, a long wooden bridge, lying white in themoonlight.

"I don't see a soul," whispered Miss Forbes.

"Anybody at that draw?" asked Winthrop. Unconsciously his voice alsohad sunk to a whisper.

"No," returned Fred. "I think the man that tends the draw goes home atnight; there is no light there."

"Well then," said Winthrop, with an anxious sigh, "we've got to make adash for it."

The car shot forward, and, as it leaped lightly upon the bridge, therewas a rapid rumble of creaking boards.

Between it and the highway to New York lay only two hundred yards oftrack, straight and empty.

In his excitement the chauffeur rose from the rear seat.

"They'll never catch us now," he muttered. "They'll never catch us!"

But even as he spoke there grated harshly the creak of rusty chains ona cogged wheel, the rattle of a brake. The black figure of a man withwaving arms ran out upon the draw, and the draw gaped slowly open.

When the car halted there was between it and the broken edge of thebridge twenty feet of running water.

At the same moment from behind it came a patter of feet, and Winthropturned to see racing toward them some dozen young men of Fairport.They surrounded him with noisy, raucous, belligerent cries. They were,as they proudly informed him, members of the Fairport "Volunteer FireDepartment." That they might purchase new uniforms, they had arrangeda trap for the automobiles returning in illegal haste from New Haven.In fines they had collected $300, and it was evident that already someof that money had been expended in bad whiskey. As many as could do socrowded into the car, others hung to the running boards and step,others ran beside it. They rejoiced over Winthrop's unsuccessfulflight and capture with violent and humiliating laughter.

For the day, Judge Allen had made a temporary court in the clubroom ofthe fire department, which was over the engine house; and theproceedings were brief and decisive. The selectman told how Winthrop,after first breaking the speed law, had broken arrest and Judge Allen,refusing to fine him and let him go, held him and his companions for ahearing the following morning. He fixed the amount of bail at $500each; failing to pay this, they would for the night be locked up indifferent parts of the engine house, which, it developed, contained onthe ground floor the home of the fire engine, on the second floor theclubroom, on alternate nights, of the firemen, the local G. A. R., andthe Knights of Pythias, and in its cellar the town jail.

Winthrop and the chauffeur the learned judge condemned to the cells inthe basement. As a concession, he granted Miss Forbes the freedom ofthe entire clubroom to herself.

The objections raised by Winthrop to this arrangement were of a natureso violent, so vigorous, at one moment so specious and conciliatory,and the next so abusive, that his listeners were moved by awe, but notto pity.

In his indignation, Judge Allen rose to reply, and as, the better tohear him, the crowd pushed forward, Fred gave way before it, until hewas left standing in sullen gloom upon its outer edge. In imitation ofthe real firemen of the great cities, the vamps of Fairport had cut acircular hole in the floor of their clubroom, and from the engine roombelow had reared a sliding pole of shining brass. When leaving theirclubroom, it was always their pleasure to scorn the stairs and, likereal firemen, slide down this pole. It had not escaped the notice ofFred, and since his entrance he had been gravitating toward it.

As the voice of the judge rose in violent objurgation, and all eyeswere fixed upon him, the chauffeur crooked his leg tightly about thebrass pole, and, like the devil in the pantomime, sank softly andswiftly through the floor.

The irate judge was shaking his finger in Winthrop's face.

"Don't you try to teach me no law," he shouted; "I know what I can do.Ef MY darter went gallivantin' around nights in one of themautomobiles, it would serve her right to get locked up. Maybe thisyoung woman will learn to stay at home nights with her folks. Sheain't goin' to take no harm here. The constable sits up all nightdownstairs in the fire engine room, and that sofa's as good a place tosleep as the hotel. If you want me to let her go to the hotel, whydon't you send to your folks and bail her out?"

"You know damn well why I don't," returned Winthrop. "I don't intendto give the newspapers and you and these other idiots the chance toannoy her further. This young lady's brother has been with us all day;he left us only by accident, and by forcing her to remain here aloneyou are acting outrageously. If you knew anything of decency, or law,you'd——"

"I know this much!" roared the justice triumphantly, pointing hisspectacle-case at Miss Forbes. "I know her name ain't Lizzie Bordenand yours ain't Charley Ross."

Winthrop crossed to where Miss Forbes stood in a corner. She stillwore her veil, but through it, though her face was pale, she smiled athim.

His own distress was undisguised.

"I can never forgive myself," he said.

"Nonsense!" replied Miss Forbes briskly. "You were perfectly right.If we had sent for any one, it would have had to come out. Now, we'llpay the fine in the morning and get home, and no one will know anythingof it excepting the family and Mr. Peabody, and they'll understand.But if I ever lay hands on my brother Sam!"—she clasped her fingerstogether helplessly. "To think of his leaving you to spend the nightin a cell——"

Winthrop interrupted her.

"I will get one of these men to send his wife or sister over to staywith you," he said.

But Miss Forbes protested that she did not want a companion. Theconstable would protect her, she said, and she would sit up all nightand read. She nodded at the periodicals on the club table.

"This is the only chance I may ever have," she said, "to read the'Police Gazette'!"

"You ready there?" called the constable.

"Good-night," said Winthrop.

Under the eyes of the grinning yokels, they shook hands.

"Good-night," said the girl.

"Where's your young man?" demanded the chief of police.

"My what?" inquired Winthrop.

"The young fellow that was with you when we held you up that firsttime."

The constable, or the chief of police as he called himself, on theprinciple that if there were only one policeman he must necessarily bethe chief, glanced hastily over the heads of the crowd.

"Any of you holding that shoffer?" he called.

No one was holding the chauffeur.

The chauffeur had vanished.

The cell to which the constable led Winthrop was in a corner of thecellar in which formerly coal had been stored. This corner was nowfenced off with boards, and a wooden door with chain and padlock.

High in the wall, on a level with the ground, was the opening, orwindow, through which the coal had been dumped. This window now wasbarricaded with iron bars. Winthrop tested the door by shaking it, andlanded a heavy kick on one of the hinges. It gave slightly, andemitted a feeble groan.

"What you tryin' to do?" demanded the constable. "That's townproperty."

In the light of the constable's lantern, Winthrop surveyed his cellwith extreme dissatisfaction.

"I call this a cheap cell," he said.

"It's good enough for a cheap sport," returned the constable. It wasso overwhelming a retort that after the constable had turned the key inthe padlock, and taken himself and his lantern to the floor above,Winthrop could hear him repeating it to the volunteer firemen. Theyreceived it with delighted howls.

For an hour, on the three empty boxes that formed his bed, Winthropsat, with his chin on his fists, planning the nameless atrocities hewould inflict upon the village of Fairport. Compared to his tortures,those of Neuremberg were merely reprimands. Also he considered theparticular punishment he would mete out to Sam Forbes for his desertionof his sister, and to Fred. He could not understand Fred. It was notlike the chauffeur to think only of himself. Nevertheless, forabandoning Miss Forbes in the hour of need, Fred must be discharged.He had, with some regret, determined upon this discipline, when fromdirectly over his head the voice of Fred hailed him cautiously.

"Mr. Winthrop," the voice called, "are you there?"

To Winthrop the question seemed superfluous. He jumped to his feet,and peered up into the darkness.

"Where are YOU?" he demanded.

"At the window," came the answer. "We're in the back yard. Mr. Samwants to speak to you."

On Miss Forbes's account, Winthrop gave a gasp of relief. On his own,one of savage satisfaction.

"And Iwant to speak to HIM!" he whispered.

The moonlight, which had been faintly shining through the iron bars ofthe coal chute, was eclipsed by a head and shoulders. The comfortablevoice of Sam Forbes greeted him in a playful whisper.

"Hullo, Billy! You down there?"

"Where the devil did you think I was?" Winthrop answered at white heat."Let me tell you if I was not down here I'd be punching your head."

"That's all right, Billy," Sam answered soothingly. "But I'll save youjust the same. It shall never be said of Sam Forbes he deserted acomrade——"

"Stop that! Do you know," Winthrop demanded fiercely, "that yoursister is a prisoner upstairs?"

"I do," replied the unfeeling brother, "but she won't be long. All thelow-comedy parts are out now arranging a rescue."

"Who are? Todd and those boys?" demanded Winthrop. "They mustn't thinkof it! They'll only make it worse. It is impossible to get yoursister out of here with those drunken firemen in the building. Youmust wait till they've gone home. Do you hear me?"

"Pardon ME!" returned Sam stiffly, "but this is MY relief expedition.I have sent two of the boys to hold the bridge, like Horatius, and twoto guard the motors, and the others are going to entice the firemenaway from the engine house."

"Entice them? How?" demanded Winthrop. "They're drunk, and they won'tleave here till morning."

Outside the engine house, suspended from a heavy cross-bar, was a steelrail borrowed from a railroad track, and bent into a hoop. When hitwith a sledge-hammer it proclaimed to Fairport that the "consumingelement" was at large.

At the moment Winthrop asked his question, over the village of Fairportand over the bay and marshes, and far out across the Sound, the greatsteel bar sent forth a shuddering boom of warning.

From the room above came a wild tumult of joyous yells.

"Fire!" shrieked the vamps, "fire!"

The two men crouching by the cellar window heard the rush of feet, theengine banging and bumping across the sidewalk, its brass bell clankingcrazily, the happy vamps shouting hoarse, incoherent orders.

Through the window Sam lowered a bag of tools he had taken fromWinthrop's car.

"Can you open the lock with any of these?" he asked.

"I can kick it open!" yelled Winthrop joyfully. "Get to your sister,quick!"

He threw his shoulder against the door, and the staples flying beforehim sent him sprawling in the coal-dust. When he reached the head ofthe stairs, Beatrice Forbes was descending from the clubroom, and infront of the door the two cars, with their lamps unlit and numbershidden, were panting to be free.

And in the North, reaching to the sky, rose a roaring column of flame,shameless in the pale moonlight, dragging into naked day the sleepingvillage, the shingled houses, the clock-face in the church steeple.

"What the devil have you done?" gasped Winthrop.

Before he answered, Sam waited until the cars were rattling to safetyacross the bridge.

"We have been protecting the face of nature," he shouted. "The onlyway to get that gang out of the engine house was to set fire tosomething. Tommy wanted to burn up the railroad station, because hedoesn't like the New York and New Haven, and Fred was for setting fireto Judge Allen's house, because he was rude to Beatrice. But wefinally formed the Village Improvement Society, organized to burn alladvertising signs. You know those that stood in the marshes, and hidthe view from the trains, so that you could not see the Sound. Wechopped them down and put them in a pile, and poured gasolene on them,and that fire is all that is left of the pickles, fly-screens, andpills."

It was midnight when the cars drew up at the door of the house ofForbes. Anxiously waiting in the library were Mrs. Forbes and ErnestPeabody.

"At last!" cried Mrs. Forbes, smiling her relief; "we thought maybe Samand you had decided to spend the night in New Haven."

"No," said Miss Forbes, "there WAS some talk about spending the nightat Fairport, but we pushed right on."

II

THE TRESPASSERS

With a long, nervous shudder, the Scarlet Car came to a stop, and thelamps bored a round hole in the night, leaving the rest of theencircling world in a chill and silent darkness.

The lamps showed a flickering picture of a country road between highbanks covered with loose stones, and overhead, a fringe of pine boughs.It looked like a colored photograph thrown from a stereopticon in adarkened theater.

From the back of the car the voice of the owner said briskly: "We willnow sing that beautiful ballad entitled 'He Is Sleeping in the YukonVale To-night.' What are you stopping for, Fred?" he asked.

The tone of the chauffeur suggested he was again upon the defensive.

"For water, sir," he mumbled.

Miss Forbes in the front seat laughed, and her brother in the rearseat, groaned in dismay.

"Oh, for water?" said the owner cordially. "I thought maybe it was forcoal."

Save a dignified silence, there was no answer to this, until there camea rolling of loose stones and the sound of a heavy body suddenlyprecipitated down the bank, and landing with a thump in the road.

"He didn't get the water," said the owner sadly.

"Are you hurt, Fred?" asked the girl.

The chauffeur limped in front of the lamps, appearing suddenly, like anactor stepping into the limelight.

"No, ma'am," he said. In the rays of the lamp, he unfolded a road mapand scowled at it. He shook his head aggrievedly.

"There OUGHT to be a house just about here," he explained.

"There OUGHT to be a hotel and a garage, and a cold supper, just abouthere," said the girl cheerfully.

"That's the way with those houses," complained the owner. "They neverstay where they're put. At night they go around and visit each other.Where do you think you are, Fred?"

"I think we're in that long woods, between Loon Lake and Stoughton onthe Boston Pike," said the chauffeur, "and," he reiterated, "thereOUGHT to be a house somewhere about here—where we get water."

"Well, get there, then, and get the water," commanded the owner.

"But I can't get there, sir, till I get the water," returned thechauffeur.

He shook out two collapsible buckets, and started down the shaft oflight.

"I won't be more nor five minutes," he called.

"I'm going with him," said the girl, "I'm cold."

She stepped down from the front seat, and the owner with suddenalacrity vaulted the door and started after her.

"You coming?" he inquired of Ernest Peabody. But Ernest Peabody beingsoundly asleep made no reply. Winthrop turned to Sam. "Are YOUcoming?" he repeated.

The tone of the invitation seemed to suggest that a refusal would notnecessarily lead to a quarrel.

"I am NOT!" said the brother. "You've kept Peabody and me twelve hoursin the open air, and it's past two, and we're going to sleep. You cantake it from me that we are going to spend the rest of this night herein this road."

He moved his cramped joints cautiously, and stretched his legs the fullwidth of the car.

"If you can't get plain water," he called, "get club soda."

He buried his nose in the collar of his fur coat, and the odors ofcamphor and raccoon skins instantly assailed him, but he only yawnedluxuriously and disappeared into the coat as a turtle draws into itsshell. From the woods about him the smell of the pine needles pressedupon him like a drug, and before the footsteps of his companions werelost in the silence he was asleep. But his sleep was only a review ofhis waking hours. Still on either hand rose flying dust clouds andtwirling leaves; still on either side raced gray stone walls, telegraphpoles, hills rich in autumn colors; and before him a long white road,unending, interminable, stretching out finally into a darkness lit byflashing shop-windows, like open fireplaces, by street lamps, byswinging electric globes, by the blinding searchlights of hundreds ofdarting trolley cars with terrifying gongs, and then a cold white mist,and again on every side, darkness, except where the four great lampsblazed a path through stretches of ghostly woods.

As the two young men slumbered, the lamps spluttered and sizzled likebacon in a frying-pan, a stone rolled noisily down the bank, a whiteowl, both appalled and fascinated by the dazzling eyes of the monsterblocking the road, hooted, and flapped itself away. But the men in thecar only shivered slightly, deep in the sleep of utter weariness.

In silence the girl and Winthrop followed the chauffeur. They hadpassed out of the light of the lamps, and in the autumn mist theelectric torch of the owner was as ineffective as a glow-worm. Themystery of the forest fell heavily upon them. From their feet the deadleaves sent up a clean, damp odor, and on either side and overhead thegiant pine trees whispered and rustled in the night wind.

"Take my coat, too," said the young man. "You'll catch cold." He spokewith authority and began to slip the loops from the big horn buttons.It was not the habit of the girl to consider her health. Nor did shepermit the members of her family to show solicitude concerning it. Butthe anxiety of the young man, did not seem to offend her. She thankedhim generously. "No; these coats are hard to walk in, and I want towalk," she exclaimed.

"I like to hear the leaves rustle when you kick them, don't you? WhenI was so high, I used to pretend it was wading in the surf."

The young man moved over to the gutter of the road where the leaveswere deepest and kicked violently. "And the more noise you make," hesaid, "the more you frighten away the wild animals."

The girl shuddered in a most helpless and fascinating fashion.

"Don't!" she whispered. "I didn't mention it, but already I have seenseveral lions crouching behind the trees."

"Indeed?" said the young man. His tone was preoccupied. He had justkicked a rock, hidden by the leaves, and was standing on one leg.

"Do you mean you don't believe me?" asked the girl, "or is it that youare merely brave?"

"Merely brave!" exclaimed the young man. "Massachusetts is so far northfor lions," he continued, "that I fancy what you saw was a grizzlybear. But I have my trusty electric torch with me, and if there isanything a bear cannot abide, it is to be pointed at by an electrictorch."

"Let us pretend," cried the girl, "that we are the babes in the wood,and that we are lost."

"We don't have to pretend we're lost," said the man, "and as I rememberit, the babes came to a sad end. Didn't they die, and didn't the birdsbury them with leaves?"

"Sam and Mr. Peabody can be the birds," suggested the girl.

"Sam and Peabody hopping around with leaves in their teeth would looksilly," objected the man, "I doubt if I could keep from laughing."

"Then," said the girl, "they can be the wicked robbers who came to killthe babes."

"Very well," said the man with suspicious alacrity, "let us be babes.If I have to die," he went on heartily, "I would rather die with youthan live with any one else."

When he had spoken, although they were entirely alone in the world andquite near to each other, it was as though the girl could not hear him,even as though he had not spoken at all. After a silence, the girlsaid: "Perhaps it would be better for us to go back to the car."

"I won't do it again," begged the man.

"We will pretend," cried the girl, "that the car is a van and that weare gypsies, and we'll build a campfire, and I will tell your fortune."

"You are the only woman who can," muttered the young man.

The girl still stood in her tracks.

"You said—" she began.

"I know," interrupted the man, "but you won't let me talk seriously, soI joke. But some day——"

"Oh, look!" cried the girl. "There's Fred."

She ran from him down the road. The young man followed her slowly, hisfists deep in the pockets of the great-coat, and kicking at theunoffending leaves.

The chauffeur was peering through a double iron gate hung betweensquare brick posts. The lower hinge of one gate was broken, and thatgate lurched forward leaving an opening. By the light of the electrictorch they could see the beginning of a driveway, rough and weed-grown,lined with trees of great age and bulk, and an unkempt lawn, strewnwith bushes, and beyond, in an open place bare of trees and illuminatedfaintly by the stars, the shadow of a house, black, silent, andforbidding.

"That's it," whispered the chauffeur. "I was here before. The well isover there."

The young man gave a gasp of astonishment.

"Why," he protested, "this is the Carey place! I should say we WERElost. We must have left the road an hour ago. There's not anotherhouse within miles." But he made no movement to enter. "Of allplaces!" he muttered.

"Well, then," urged the girl briskly, "if there's no other house, let'stap Mr. Carey's well and get on."

"Do you know who he is?" asked the man.

The girl laughed. "You don't need a letter of introduction to take abucket of water, do you?" she said.

"It's Philip Carey's house. He lives here." He spoke in a whisper,and insistently, as though the information must carry some specialsignificance. But the girl showed no sign of enlightenment. "Youremember the Carey boys?" he urged. "They left Harvard the year Ientered. They HAD to leave. They were quite mad. All the Careys havebeen mad. The boys were queer even then, and awfully rich. Henry ranaway with a girl from a shoe factory in Brockton and lives in Paris,and Philip was sent here."

"Sent here?" repeated the girl. Unconsciously her voice also had sunkto a whisper.

"He has a doctor and a nurse and keepers, and they live here all theyear round. When Fred said there were people hereabouts, I thought wemight strike them for something to eat, or even to put us up for thenight, but, Philip Carey! I shouldn't fancy——"

"I should think not!" exclaimed the girl.

For, a minute the three stood silent, peering through the iron bars.

"And the worst of it is," went on the young man irritably, "he couldgive us such good things to eat."

"It doesn't look it," said the girl.

"I know," continued the man in the same eager whisper. "But—who wasit was telling me? Some doctor I know who came down to see him. Hesaid Carey does himself awfully well, has the house full of bullypictures, and the family plate, and wonderful collections—things hepicked up in the East—gold ornaments, and jewels, and jade."

"I shouldn't think," said the girl in the same hushed voice, "theywould let him live so far from any neighbors with such things in thehouse. Suppose burglars——"

"Burglars! Burglars would never hear of this place. How couldthey?—Even his friends think it's just a private madhouse."

The girl shivered and drew back from the gate.

Fred coughed apologetically.

"I'VE heard of it," he volunteered. "There was a piece in the SundayPost. It said he eats his dinner in a diamond crown, and all the wallsis gold, and two monkeys wait on table with gold——"

"Nonsense!" said the man sharply. "He eats like any one else anddresses like any one else. How far is the well from the house?"

"It's purty near," said the chauffeur.

"Pretty near the house, or pretty near here?"

"Just outside the kitchen; and it makes a creaky noise."

"You mean you don't want to go?"

Fred's answer was unintelligible.

"You wait here with Miss Forbes," said the young man. "And I'll getthe water."

"Yes, sir!" said Fred, quite distinctly.

"No, sir!" said Miss Forbes, with equal distinctness. "I'm not goingto be left here alone—with all these trees. I'm going with you."

"There may be a dog," suggested the young man, "or, I was thinking ifthey heard me prowling about, they might take a shot—just for luck.Why don't you go back to the car with Fred?"

"Down that long road in the dark?" exclaimed the girl. "Do you think Ihave no imagination?"

The man in front, the girl close on his heels, and the boy with thebuckets following, crawled through the broken gate, and movedcautiously up the gravel driveway.

Within fifty feet of the house the courage of the chauffeur returned.

"You wait here," he whispered, "and if I wake 'em up, you shout to 'emthat it's all right, that it's only me."

"Your idea being," said the young man, "that they will then fire at me.Clever lad. Run along."

There was a rustling of the dead weeds, and instantly the chauffeur wasswallowed in the encompassing shadows.

Miss Forbes leaned toward the young man.

"Do you see a light in that lower story?" she whispered.

"No," said the man. "Where?"

After a pause the girl answered: "I can't see it now, either. Maybe Ididn't see it. It was very faint—just a glow—it might have beenphosphorescence."

"It might," said the man. He gave a shrug of distaste. "The wholeplace is certainly old enough and decayed enough."

For a brief space they stood quite still, and at once, accentuated bytheir own silence, the noises of the night grew in number anddistinctness. A slight wind had risen and the boughs of the pinesrocked restlessly, making mournful complaint; and at their feet theneedles dropping in a gentle desultory shower had the sound of rain inspringtime. From every side they were startled by noises they couldnot place. Strange movements and rustlings caused them to peer sharplyinto the shadows; footsteps, that seemed to approach, and, then, havingmarked them, skulk away; branches of bushes that suddenly swepttogether, as though closing behind some one in stealthy retreat.Although they knew that in the deserted garden they were alone, theyfelt that from the shadows they were being spied upon, that thedarkness of the place was peopled by malign presences.

The young man drew a cigar from his case and put it unlit between histeeth.

"Cheerful, isn't it?" he growled. "These dead leaves make it damp as atomb. If I've seen one ghost, I've seen a dozen. I believe we'restanding in the Carey family's graveyard."

"I thought you were brave," said the girl.

"I am," returned the young man, "very brave. But if you had the mostwonderful girl on earth to take care of in the grounds of a madhouse attwo in the morning, you'd be scared too."

He was abruptly surprised by Miss Forbes laying her hand firmly uponhis shoulder, and turning him in the direction of the house. Her facewas so near his that he felt the uneven fluttering of her breath uponhis cheek.

"There is a man," she said, "standing behind that tree."

By the faint light of the stars he saw, in black silhouette, a shoulderand head projecting from beyond the trunk of a huge oak, and thenquickly withdrawn. The owner of the head and shoulder was on the sideof the tree nearest to themselves, his back turned to them, and sodeeply was his attention engaged that he was unconscious of theirpresence.

"He is watching the house," said the girl. "Why is he doing that?"

"I think it's Fred," whispered the man. "He's afraid to go for thewater. That's as far as he's gone." He was about to move forward whenfrom the oak tree there came a low whistle. The girl and the man stoodsilent and motionless. But they knew it was useless; that they hadbeen overheard. A voice spoke cautiously.

"That you?" it asked.

With the idea only of gaining time, the young man responded promptlyand truthfully. "Yes," he whispered.

"Keep to the right of the house," commanded the voice.

The young man seized Miss Forbes by the wrist and moving to the rightdrew her quickly with him. He did not stop until they had turned thecorner of the building, and were once more hidden by the darkness.

"The plot thickens," he said. "I take it that that fellow is a keeper,or watchman. He spoke as though it were natural there should beanother man in the grounds, so there's probably two of them, either tokeep Carey in, or to keep trespassers out. Now, I think I'll go backand tell him that Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail ofwater, and that all they want is to be allowed to get the water, andgo."

"Why should a watchman hide behind a tree?" asked the girl. "Andwhy——"

She ceased abruptly with a sharp cry of fright. "What's that?" shewhispered.

"What's what?" asked the young man startled. "What did you hear?"

"Over there," stammered the girl. "Something—that—groaned."

"Pretty soon this will get on my nerves," said the man. He ripped openhis greatcoat and reached under it. "I've been stoned twice, whenthere were women in the car," he said, apologetically, "and so now atnight I carry a gun." He shifted the darkened torch to his left hand,and, moving a few yards, halted to listen. The girl, reluctant to beleft alone, followed slowly. As he stood immovable there came from theleaves just beyond him the sound of a feeble struggle, and a strangledgroan. The man bent forward and flashed the torch. He saw stretchedrigid on the ground a huge wolf-hound. Its legs were twisted horribly,the lips drawn away from the teeth, the eyes glazed in an agony ofpain. The man snapped off the light. "Keep back!" he whispered to thegirl. He took her by the arm and ran with her toward the gate.

"Who was it?" she begged.

"It was a dog," he answered. "I think——"

He did not tell her what he thought.

"I've got to find out what the devil has happened to Fred!" he said."You go back to the car. Send your brother here on the run. Tell himthere's going to be a rough-house. You're not afraid to go?"

"No," said the girl.

A shadow blacker than the night rose suddenly before them, and a voiceasked sternly but quietly: "What are you doing here?"

The young man lifted his arm clear of the girl, and shoved her quicklyfrom him. In his hand she felt the pressure of the revolver.

"Well," he replied truculently, "and what are you doing here?"

"I am the night watchman," answered the voice. "Who are you?"

It struck Miss Forbes if the watchman knew that one of the trespasserswas a woman he would be at once reassured, and she broke in quickly:

"We have lost our way," she said pleasantly. "We came here——"

She found herself staring blindly down a shaft of light. For aninstant the torch held her, and then from her swept over the young man.

"Drop that gun!" cried the voice. It was no longer the same voice; itwas now savage and snarling. For answer the young man pressed thetorch in his left hand, and, held in the two circles of light, the mensurveyed each other. The newcomer was one of unusual bulk and height.The collar of his overcoat hid his mouth, and his derby hat was drawndown over his forehead, but what they saw showed an intelligent, strongface, although for the moment it wore a menacing scowl. The young mandropped his revolver into his pocket.

"My automobile ran dry," he said; "we came in here to get some water.My chauffeur is back there somewhere with a couple of buckets. This isMr. Carey's place, isn't it?"

"Take that light out of my eyes!" said the watchman.

"Take your light out of my eyes," returned the young man. "You can seewe're not—we don't mean any harm."

The two lights disappeared simultaneously, and then each, as thoughworked by the same hand, sprang forth again.

"What did you think I was going to do?" the young man asked. Helaughed and switched off his torch.

But the one the watchman held in his hand still moved from the face ofthe girl to that of the young man.

"How'd you know this was the Carey house?" he demanded. "Do you knowMr. Carey?"

"No, but I know this is his house." For a moment from behind his maskof light the watchman surveyed them in silence. Then he spoke quickly:

"I'll take you to him," he said, "if he thinks it's all right, it's allright."

The girl gave a protesting cry. The young man burst forth indignantly:

"You will NOT!" he cried. "Don't be an idiot! You talk like aTenderloin cop. Do we look like second-story workers?"

"I found you prowling around Mr. Carey's grounds at two in themorning," said the watchman sharply, "with a gun in your hand. My jobis to protect this place, and I am going to take you both to Mr. Carey."

Until this moment the young man could see nothing save the shaft oflight and the tiny glowing bulb at its base; now into the light thereprotruded a black revolver.

"Keep your hands up, and walk ahead of me to the house," commanded thewatchman. "The woman will go in front."

The young man did not move. Under his breath he muttered impotently,and bit at his lower lip.

"See here," he said, "I'll go with you, but you shan't take this ladyin front of that madman. Let her go to her car. It's only a hundredyards from here; you know perfectly well she——"

"I know where your car is, all right," said the watchman steadily, "andI'm not going to let you get away in it till Mr. Carey's seen you."The revolver motioned forward. Miss Forbes stepped in front of it andappealed eagerly to the young man.

"Do what he says," she urged. "It's only his duty. Please! Indeed, Idon't mind." She turned to the watchman. "Which way do you want us togo?" she asked.

"Keep in the light," he ordered.

The light showed the broad steps leading to the front entrance of thehouse, and in its shaft they climbed them, pushed open the unlockeddoor, and stood in a small hallway. It led into a greater hall beyond.By the electric lights still burning they noted that the interior ofthe house was as rich and well cared for as the outside was miserable.With a gesture for silence the watchman motioned them into a small roomon the right of the hallway. It had the look of an office, and wasapparently the place in which were conducted the affairs of the estate.

In an open grate was a dying fire; in front of it a flat desk coveredwith papers and japanned tin boxes.

"You stay here till I fetch Mr. Carey, and the servants," commanded thewatchman. "Don't try to get out, and," he added menacingly, "don'tmake no noise." With his revolver he pointed at the two windows. Theywere heavily barred. "Those bars keep Mr. Carey in," he said, "and Iguess they can keep you in, too. The other watchman," he added, "willbe just outside this door." But still he hesitated, glowering withsuspicion; unwilling to trust them alone. His face lit with an uglysmile.

"Mr. Carey's very bad to-night," he said; "he won't keep his bed andhe's wandering about the house. If he found you by yourselves, hemight——"

The young man, who had been staring at the fire, swung sharply on hisheel.

"Get-to-hell-out-of-here!" he said. The watchman stepped into the halland was cautiously closing the door when a man sprang lightly up thefront steps. Through the inch crack left by the open door thetrespassers heard the newcomers eager greeting.

"I can't get him right!" he panted. "He's snoring like a hog."

The watchman exclaimed savagely:

"He's fooling you." He gasped. "I didn't mor' nor slap him. Did youthrow water on him?"

"I drowned him!" returned the other. "He never winked. I tell You wegotta walk, and damn quick!"

"Walk!" The watchman cursed him foully. "How far could we walk? I'LLbring him to," he swore. "He's scared of us, and he's shamming." Hegave a sudden start of alarm. "That's it, he's shamming. You fool!You shouldn't have left him."

There was the swift patter of retreating footsteps, and then a suddenhalt, and they heard the watchman command: "Go back, and keep theother two till I come."

The next instant from the outside the door was softly closed upon them.

It had no more than shut when to the surprise of Miss Forbes the youngman, with a delighted and vindictive chuckle, sprang to the desk andbegan to drum upon it with his fingers. It were as though he werepractising upon a typewriter.

"He missed THESE," he muttered jubilantly. The girl leaned forward.Beneath his fingers she saw, flush with the table, a roll of littleivory buttons. She read the words "Stables," "Servants' hall." Sheraised a pair of very beautiful and very bewildered eyes.

"But if he wanted the servants, why didn't the watchman do that?" sheasked.

"Because he isn't a watchman," answered the young man. "Because he'srobbing this house."

He took the revolver from his encumbering greatcoat, slipped it in hispocket, and threw the coat from him. He motioned the girl into acorner. "Keep out of the line of the door," he ordered.

"I don't understand," begged the girl.

"They came in a car," whispered the young man. "It's broken down, andthey can't get away. When the big fellow stopped us and I flashed mytorch, I saw their car behind him in the road with the front off andthe lights out. He'd seen the lamps of our car, and now they want itto escape in. That's why he brought us here—to keep us away from ourcar."

"And Fred!" gasped the girl. "Fred's hurt!"

"I guess Fred stumbled into the big fellow," assented the young man,"and the big fellow put him out; then he saw Fred was a chauffeur, andnow they are trying to bring him to, so that he can run the car forthem. You needn't worry about Fred. He's been in four smash-ups."

The young man bent forward to listen, but from no part of the greathouse came any sign. He exclaimed angrily.

"They must be drugged," he growled. He ran to the desk and madevicious jabs at the ivory buttons.

"Suppose they're out of order!" he whispered.

There was the sound of leaping feet. The young man laughed nervously.

"No, it's all right," he cried. "They're coming!"

The door flung open and the big burglar and a small, rat-like figure ofa man burst upon them; the big one pointing a revolver.

"Come with me to your car!" he commanded. "You've got to take us toBoston. Quick, or I'll blow your face off."

Although the young man glared bravely at the steel barrel and thelifted trigger, poised a few inches from his eyes, his body, as thoughweak with fright, shifted slightly and his feet made a shuffling noiseupon the floor. When the weight of his body was balanced on the ballof his right foot, the shuffling ceased. Had the burglar lowered hiseyes, the manoeuvre to him would have been significant, but his eyeswere following the barrel of the revolver.

In the mind of the young man the one thought uppermost was that he mustgain time, but, with a revolver in his face, he found his desire togain time swiftly diminishing. Still, when he spoke, it was withdeliberation.

"My chauffeur—" he began slowly.

The burglar snapped at him like a dog. "To hell with your chauffeur!"he cried. "Your chauffeur has run away. You'll drive that caryourself, or I'll leave you here with the top of your head off."

The face of the young man suddenly flashed with pleasure. His eyes,looking past the burglar to the door, lit with relief.

"There's the chauffeur now!" he cried.

The big burglar for one instant glanced over his right shoulder.

For months at a time, on Soldiers Field, the young man had thrownhimself at human targets, that ran and dodged and evaded him, and thehulking burglar, motionless before him, was easily his victim.

He leaped at him, his left arm swinging like a scythe, and, with theimpact of a club, the blow caught the burglar in the throat.

The pistol went off impotently; the burglar with a choking cough sankin a heap on the floor.

The young man tramped over him and upon him, and beat the secondburglar with savage, whirlwind blows. The second burglar, shriekingwith pain, turned to fly, and a fist, that fell upon him where his bumpof honesty should have been, drove his head against the lintel of thedoor.

At the same instant from the belfry on the roof there rang out on thenight the sudden tumult of a bell; a bell that told as plainly asthough it clamored with a human tongue, that the hand that rang it wasdriven with fear; fear of fire, fear of thieves, fear of a mad-man witha knife in his hand running amuck; perhaps at that moment creeping upthe belfry stairs.

From all over the house there was the rush of feet and men's voices,and from the garden the light of dancing lanterns. And while the smokeof the revolver still hung motionless, the open door was crowded withhalf-clad figures. At their head were two young men. One who haddrawn over his night clothes a serge suit, and who, in even that garb,carried an air of authority; and one, tall, stooping, weak of face andlight-haired, with eyes that blinked and trembled behind greatspectacles and who, for comfort, hugged about him a gorgeous kimono.For an instant the newcomers stared stupidly through the smoke at thebodies on the floor breathing stertorously, at the young man with thelust of battle still in his face, at the girl shrinking against thewall. It was the young man in the serge suit who was the first to move.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"These are burglars," said the owner of the car. "We happened to bepassing in my automobile, and——"

The young man was no longer listening. With an alert, professionalmanner he had stooped over the big burglar. With his thumb he pushedback the man's eyelids, and ran his fingers over his throat and chin.He felt carefully of the point of the chin, and glanced up.

"You've broken the bone," he said.

"I just swung on him," said the young man. He turned his eyes, andsuggested the presence of the girl.

At the same moment the man in the kimono cried nervously: "Ladiespresent, ladies present. Go put your clothes on, everybody; put yourclothes on."

For orders the men in the doorway looked to the young man with thestern face.

He scowled at the figure in the kimono.

"You will please go to your room, sir," he said. He stood up, andbowed to Miss Forbes. "I beg your pardon," he asked, "you must want toget out of this. Will you please go into the library?"

He turned to the robust youths in the door, and pointed at the secondburglar.

"Move him out of the way," he ordered.

The man in the kimono smirked and bowed.

"Allow me," he said; "allow me to show you to the library. This is noplace for ladies."

The young man with the stern face frowned impatiently.

"You will please return to your room, sir," he repeated.

With an attempt at dignity the figure in the kimono gathered the silkrobe closer about him.

"Certainly," he said. "If you think you can get on without me—I willretire," and lifting his bare feet mincingly, he tiptoed away. MissForbes looked after him with an expression of relief, of repulsion, ofgreat pity.

The owner of the car glanced at the young man with the stern face, andraised his eyebrows interrogatively.

The young man had taken the revolver from the limp fingers of theburglar and was holding it in his hand. Winthrop gave what was half alaugh and half a sigh of compassion.

"So, that's Carey?" he said.

There was a sudden silence. The young man with the stern face made noanswer. His head was bent over the revolver. He broke it open, andspilled the cartridges into his palm. Still he made no answer. Whenhe raised his head, his eyes were no longer stern, but wistful, andfilled with an inexpressible loneliness.

"No, Iam Carey," he said.

The one who had blundered stood helpless, tongue-tied, with no presenceof mind beyond knowing that to explain would offend further.

The other seemed to feel for him more than for himself. In a voice lowand peculiarly appealing, he continued hurriedly.

"He is my doctor," he said. "He is a young man, and he has not hadmany advantages—his manner is not—I find we do not get on together.I have asked them to send me some one else." He stopped suddenly, andstood unhappily silent. The knowledge that the strangers wereacquainted with his story seemed to rob him of his earlier confidence.He made an uncertain movement as though to relieve them of his presence.

Miss Forbes stepped toward him eagerly.

"You told me I might wait in the library," she said. "Will you take methere?"

For a moment the man did not move, but stood looking at the young andbeautiful girl, who, with a smile, hid the compassion in her eyes.

"Will you go?" he asked wistfully.

"Why not?" said the girl.

The young man laughed with pleasure.

"I am unpardonable," he said. "I live so much alone—that I forget."Like one who, issuing from a close room, encounters the morning air, hedrew a deep, happy breath. "It has been three years since a woman hasbeen in this house," he said simply. "And I have not even thankedyou," he went on, "nor asked you if you are cold," he criedremorsefully, "or hungry. How nice it would be if you would say youare hungry."

The girl walked beside him, laughing lightly, and, as they disappearedinto the greater hall beyond, Winthrop heard her cry: "You neverrobbed your own ice-chest? How have you kept from starving? Show meit, and we'll rob it together."

The voice of their host rang through the empty house with a laugh likethat of an eager, happy child.

"Heavens!" said the owner of the car, "isn't she wonderful!" Butneither the prostrate burglars, nor the servants, intent on strappingtheir wrists together, gave him any answer.

As they were finishing the supper filched from the ice-chest, Fred wasbrought before them from the kitchen. The blow the burglar had givenhim was covered with a piece of cold beef-steak, and the water thrownon him to revive him was thawing from his leather breeches. Mr. Careyexpressed his gratitude, and rewarded him beyond the avaricious dreamseven of a chauffeur.

As the three trespassers left the house, accompanied by many pails ofwater, the girl turned to the lonely figure in the doorway and wavedher hand.

"May we come again?" she called.

But young Mr. Carey did not trust his voice to answer. Standing erect,with folded arms, in dark silhouette in the light of the hall, he bowedhis head.

Deaf to alarm bells, to pistol shots, to cries for help, they found herbrother and Ernest Peabody sleeping soundly.

"Sam is a charming chaperon," said the owner of the car.

With the girl beside him, with Fred crouched, shivering, on the step,he threw in the clutch; the servants from the house waved the emptiedbuckets in salute, and the great car sprang forward into the awakeningday toward the golden dome over the Boston Common. In the rear seatPeabody shivered and yawned, and then sat erect.

"Did you get the water?" he demanded, anxiously.

There was a grim silence.

"Yes," said the owner of the car patiently. "You needn't worry anylonger. We got the water."

III

THE KIDNAPPERS

During the last two weeks of the "whirlwind" campaign, automobiles hadcarried the rival candidates to every election district in Greater NewYork.

During these two weeks, at the disposal of Ernest Peabody—on theReform Ticket, "the people's choice for Lieutenant-Governor—"Winthrop had placed his Scarlet Car, and, as its chauffeur, himself.

Not that Winthrop greatly cared for Reform, or Ernest Peabody. The"whirlwind" part of the campaign was what attracted him; the crowds,the bands, the fireworks, the rush by night from hall to hall, fromFordham to Tompkinsville. And, while inside the different Lyceums,Peabody lashed the Tammany Tiger, outside in his car, Winthrop wasmaking friends with Tammany policemen, and his natural enemies, thebicycle cops. To Winthrop, the day in which he did not increase hisacquaintance with the traffic squad, was a day lost.

But the real reason for his efforts in the cause of Reform, was one hecould not declare. And it was a reason that was guessed perhaps byonly one person. On some nights Beatrice Forbes and her brother Samaccompanied Peabody. And while Peabody sat in the rear of the car,mumbling the speech he would next deliver, Winthrop was given thechance to talk with her. These chances were growing cruelly few. Inone month after election day Miss Forbes and Peabody would be man andwife. Once before the day of their marriage had been fixed, but, whenthe Reform Party offered Peabody a high place on its ticket, he asked,in order that he might bear his part in the cause of reform, that thewedding be postponed. To the postponement Miss Forbes made noobjection. To one less self-centred than Peabody, it might haveappeared that she almost too readily consented.

"I knew I could count upon your seeing my duty as I saw it," saidPeabody much pleased, "it always will be a satisfaction to both of usto remember you never stood between me and my work for reform."

"What do you think my brother-in-law-to-be has done now?" demanded Samof Winthrop, as the Scarlet Car swept into Jerome Avenue. "He'spostponed his marriage with Trix just because he has a chance to beLieutenant-Governor. What is a Lieutenant-Governor anyway, do youknow? I don't like to ask Peabody."

"It is not his own election he's working for," said Winthrop. He wasconscious of an effort to assume a point of view both noble andmagnanimous.

"He probably feels the 'cause' calls him. But, good Heavens!"

"Look out!" shrieked Sam, "where you going?"

Winthrop swung the car back into the avenue.

"To think," he cried, "that a man who could marry—a girl, and thenwould ask her to wait two months. Or, two days! Two months lost outof his life, and she might die; he might lose her, she might change hermind. Any number of men can be Lieutenant-Governors; only one man canbe——"

He broke off suddenly, coughed and fixed his eyes miserably on theroad. After a brief pause, Brother Sam covertly looked at him. Couldit be that "Billie" Winthrop, the man liked of all men, should love hissister, and—that she should prefer Ernest Peabody? He was deeply,loyally indignant. He determined to demand of his sister an immediateand abject apology.

At eight o'clock on the morning of election day, Peabody, in theScarlet Car, was on his way to vote. He lived at Riverside Drive, andthe polling-booth was only a few blocks distant. During the rest ofthe day he intended to use the car to visit other election districts,and to keep him in touch with the Reformers at the Gilsey House.Winthrop was acting as his chauffeur, and in the rear seat was MissForbes. Peabody had asked her to accompany him to the polling-booth,because he thought women who believed in reform should show theirinterest in it in public, before all men. Miss Forbes disagreed withhim, chiefly because whenever she sat in a box at any of the publicmeetings the artists from the newspapers, instead of immortalizing thecandidate, made pictures of her and her hat. After she had seen herfuture lord and master cast his vote for reform and himself, she was todepart by train to Tarrytown. The Forbes's country place was there,and for election day her brother Sam had invited out some of hisfriends to play tennis.

As the car darted and dodged up Eighth Avenue, a man who had beenhidden by the stairs to the Elevated, stepped in front of it. Itcaught him, and hurled him, like a mail-bag tossed from a train,against one of the pillars that support the overhead tracks. Winthropgave a cry and fell upon the brakes. The cry was as full of pain asthough he himself had been mangled. Miss Forbes saw only the manappear, and then disappear, but, Winthrop's shout of warning, and thewrench as the brakes locked, told her what had happened. She shut hereyes, and for an instant covered them with her hands. On the frontseat Peabody clutched helplessly at the cushions. In horror his eyeswere fastened on the motionless mass jammed against the pillar.Winthrop scrambled over him, and ran to where the man lay. So,apparently, did every other inhabitant of Eighth Avenue; but Winthropwas the first to reach him and kneeling in the car tracks, he tried toplace the head and shoulders of the body against the iron pillar. Hehad seen very few dead men; and to him, this weight in his arms, thisbundle of limp flesh and muddy clothes, and the purple-bloated facewith blood trickling down it, looked like a dead man.

Once or twice when in his car, Death had reached for Winthrop, and onlyby the scantiest grace had he escaped. Then the nearness of it hadonly sobered him. Now that he believed he had brought it to a fellowman, even though he knew he was in no degree to blame, the thoughtsickened and shocked him. His brain trembled with remorse and horror.

But voices assailing him on every side brought him to the necessity ofthe moment. Men were pressing close upon him, jostling, abusing him,shaking fists in his face. Another crowd of men, as though fearing thecar would escape of its own volition, were clinging to the steps andrunning boards.

Winthrop saw Miss Forbes standing above them, talking eagerly toPeabody, and pointing at him. He heard children's shrill voicescalling to new arrivals that an automobile had killed a man; that ithad killed him on purpose. On the outer edge of the crowd men shouted:"Ah, soak him," "Kill him," "Lynch him."

A soiled giant without a collar stooped over the purple, blood-stainedface, and then leaped upright, and shouted: "It's Jerry Gaylor, he'skilled old man Gaylor."

The response was instant. Every one seemed to know Jerry Gaylor.

Winthrop took the soiled person by the arm.

"You help me lift him into my car," he ordered. "Take him by theshoulders. We must get him to a hospital."

"To a hospital? To the Morgue!" roared the man. "And the policestation for yours. You don't do no get-away."

Winthrop answered him by turning to the crowd. "If this man has anyfriends here, they'll please help me put him in my car, and we'll takehim to Roosevelt Hospital."

The soiled person shoved a fist and a bad cigar under Winthrop's nose.

"Has he got any friends?" he mocked. "Sure, he's got friends, andthey'll fix you, all right."

"Sure!" echoed the crowd.

The man was encouraged.

"Don't you go away thinking you can come up here with your buzz wagonand murder better men nor you'll ever be and——"

"Oh, shut up!" said Winthrop.

He turned his back on the soiled man, and again appealed to the crowd.

"Don't stand there doing nothing," he commanded. "Do you want this manto die? Some of you ring for an ambulance and get a policeman, or tellme where is the nearest drug store."

No one moved, but every one shouted to every one else to do as Winthropsuggested.

Winthrop felt something pulling at his sleeve, and turning, foundPeabody at his shoulder peering fearfully at the figure in the street.He had drawn his cap over his eyes and hidden the lower part of hisface in the high collar of his motor coat. "I can't do anything, canI?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not," whispered Winthrop. "Go back to the car and don'tleave Beatrice. I'll attend to this."

"That's what I thought," whispered Peabody eagerly. "I thought she andI had better keep out of it."

"Right!" exclaimed Winthrop. "Go back and get Beatrice away."

Peabody looked his relief, but still hesitated.

"I can't do anything, as you say," he stammered, "and it's sure to getin the 'extras,' and they'll be out in time to lose us thousands ofvotes, and though no one is to blame, they're sure to blame me. Idon't care about myself," he added eagerly, "but the very morning ofelection—half the city has not voted yet—the Ticket——"

"Damn the Ticket!" exclaimed Winthrop. "The man's dead!"

Peabody, burying his face still deeper in his collar, backed into thecrowd. In the present and past campaigns, from carts and automobileshe had made many speeches in Harlem, and on the West Side, lithographsof his stern, resolute features hung in every delicatessen shop, andthat he might be recognized, was extremely likely.

He whispered to Miss Forbes what he had said, and what Winthrop hadsaid.

"But you DON'T mean to leave him," remarked Miss Forbes.

"I must," returned Peabody. "I can do nothing for the man, and youknow how Tammany will use this—They'll have it on the street by ten.They'll say I was driving recklessly; without regard for human life.And, besides, they're waiting for me at headquarters. Please hurry. Iam late now."

Miss Forbes gave an exclamation of surprise.

"Why, I'm not going," she said.

"You must go! Imust go. You can't remain here alone."

Peabody spoke in the quick, assured tone that at the first hadconvinced Miss Forbes his was a most masterful manner.

"Winthrop, too," he added, "wants you to go away."

Miss Forbes made no reply. But she looked at Peabody inquiringly,steadily, as though she were puzzled as to his identity, as though hehad just been introduced to her. It made him uncomfortable.

"Are you coming?" he asked.

Her answer was a question.

"Are you going?"

"I am!" returned Peabody. He added sharply: "I must."

"Good-by," said Miss Forbes.

As he ran up the steps to the station of the elevated, it seemed toPeabody that the tone of her "good-by" had been most unpleasant. Itwas severe, disapproving. It had a final, fateful sound. He wasconscious of a feeling of self-dissatisfaction. In not seeing thepolitical importance of his not being mixed up with this accident,Winthrop had been peculiarly obtuse, and Beatrice, unsympathetic.Until he had cast his vote for Reform, he felt distinctly ill-used.

For a moment Beatrice Forbes sat in the car motionless, staringunseeingly at the iron steps by which Peabody had disappeared. For afew moments her brows were tightly drawn. Then, having apparentlyquickly arrived at some conclusion, she opened the door of the car andpushed into the crowd.

Winthrop received her most rudely.

"You mustn't come here!" he cried.

"I thought," she stammered, "you might want some one?"

"I told—" began Winthrop, and then stopped, and added—"to take youaway. Where is he?"

Miss Forbes flushed slightly.

"He's gone," she said.

In trying not to look at Winthrop, she saw the fallen figure,motionless against the pillar, and with an exclamation, bent fearfullytoward it.

"Can I do anything?" she asked.

The crowd gave way for her, and with curious pleased faces, closed inagain eagerly. She afforded them a new interest.

A young man in the uniform of an ambulance surgeon was kneeling besidethe mud-stained figure, and a police officer was standing over both.The ambulance surgeon touched lightly the matted hair from which theblood escaped, stuck his finger in the eye of the prostrate man, andthen with his open hand slapped him across the face.

"Oh!" gasped Miss Forbes.

The young doctor heard her, and looking up, scowled reprovingly.Seeing she was a rarely beautiful young woman, he scowled lessseverely; and then deliberately and expertly, again slapped Mr. JerryGaylor on the cheek. He watched the white mark made by his hand uponthe purple skin, until the blood struggled slowly back to it, and thenrose.

He ignored every one but the police officer.

"There's nothing the matter with HIM," he said. "He's dead drunk."

The words came to Winthrop with such abrupt relief, bearing sotremendous a burden of gratitude, that his heart seemed to fail him.In his suddenly regained happiness, he unconsciously laughed.

"Are you sure?" he asked eagerly. "I thought I'd killed him."

The surgeon looked at Winthrop coldly.

"When they're like that," he explained with authority, "you can't hurt'em if you throw them off the Times Building."

He condescended to recognize the crowd. "You know where this manlives?"

Voices answered that Mr. Gaylor lived at the corner, over the saloon.The voices showed a lack of sympathy. Old man Gaylor dead was anovelty; old man Gaylor drunk was not.

The doctor's prescription was simple and direct.

"Put him to bed till he sleeps it off," he ordered; he swung himself tothe step of the ambulance. "Let him out, Steve," he called. There wasthe clang of a gong and the rattle of galloping hoofs.

The police officer approached Winthrop. "They tell me Jerry stepped infront of your car; that you wasn't to blame. I'll get their names andwhere they live. Jerry might try to hold you up for damages."

"Thank you very much," said Winthrop.

With several of Jerry's friends, and the soiled person, who now seemeddissatisfied that Jerry was alive, Winthrop helped to carry him up oneflight of stairs and drop him upon a bed.

"In case he needs anything," said Winthrop, and gave several bills tothe soiled person, upon whom immediately Gaylor's other friends closedin. "And I'll send my own doctor at once to attend to him."

"You'd better," said the soiled person morosely, "or, he'll try toshake you down."

The opinions as to what might be Mr. Gaylor's next move seemedunanimous.

From the saloon below, Winthrop telephoned to the family doctor, andthen rejoined Miss Forbes and the Police officer. The officer gave himthe names of those citizens who had witnessed the accident, and inreturn received Winthrop's card.

"Not that it will go any further," said the officer reassuringly."They're all saying you acted all right and wanted to take him toRoosevelt. There's many," he added with sententious indignation, "thatknock a man down, and then run away without waiting to find out ifthey've hurted 'em or killed 'em."

The speech for both Winthrop and Miss Forbes was equally embarrassing.

"You don't say?" exclaimed Winthrop nervously. He shook thepoliceman's hand. The handclasp was apparently satisfactory to thatofficial, for he murmured "Thank you," and stuck something in thelining of his helmet. "Now, then!" Winthrop said briskly to MissForbes, "I think we have done all we can. And we'll get away from thisplace a little faster than the law allows."

Miss Forbes had seated herself in the car, and Winthrop was crankingup, when the same policeman, wearing an anxious countenance, touchedhim on the arm. "There is a gentleman here," he said, "wants to speakto you." He placed himself between the gentleman and Winthrop andwhispered: "He's 'Izzy' Schwab, he's a Harlem police-court lawyer anda Tammany man. He's after something, look out for him."

Winthrop saw, smiling at him ingratiatingly, a slight, slim youth, withbeady, rat-like eyes, a low forehead, and a Hebraic nose. He wonderedhow it had been possible for Jerry Gaylor to so quickly secure counsel.But Mr. Schwab at once undeceived him.

"I'm from the Journal," he began, "not regular on the staff, but I send'em Harlem items, and the court reporter treats me nice, see! Nowabout this accident; could you give me the name of the young lady?"

He smiled encouragingly at Miss Forbes.

"I could not!" growled Winthrop. "The man wasn't hurt, the policemanwill tell you so. It is not of the least public interest."

With a deprecatory shrug, the young man smiled knowingly.

"Well, mebbe not the lady's name," he granted, "but the name of theOTHER gentleman who was with you, when the accident occurred." Hisblack, rat-like eyes snapped. "I think HIS name would be of publicinterest."

To gain time Winthrop stepped into the driver's seat. He looked at Mr.Schwab steadily.

"There was no other gentleman," he said. "Do you mean my chauffeur?"Mr. Schwab gave an appreciative chuckle.

"No, I don't mean your chauffeur," he mimicked. "I mean," he declaredtheatrically in his best police-court manner, "the man who to-day ishoping to beat Tammany, Ernest Peabody!"

Winthrop stared at the youth insolently.

"I don't understand you," he said.

"Oh, of course not!" jeered "Izzy" Schwab. He moved excitedly fromfoot to foot. "Then who WAS the other man," he demanded, "the man whoran away?"

Winthrop felt the blood rise to his face. That Miss Forbes should hearthis rat of a man, sneering at the one she was to marry, made him hatePeabody. But he answered easily:

"No one ran away. I told my chauffeur to go and call up an ambulance.That was the man you saw."

As when "leading on" a witness to commit himself, Mr. Schwab smiledsympathetically.

"And he hasn't got back yet," he purred, "has he?"

"No, and I'm not going to wait for him," returned Winthrop. He reachedfor the clutch, but Mr. Schwab jumped directly in front of the car.

"Was he looking for a telephone when he ran up the elevated steps?" hecried.

He shook his fists vehemently.

"Oh, no, Mr. Winthrop, it won't do—you make a good witness. Iwouldn't ask for no better, but, you don't fool 'Izzy' Schwab."

"You're mistaken, I tell you," cried Winthrop desperately. "He maylook like—like this man you speak of, but no Peabody was in this car."

"Izzy" Schwab wrung his hands hysterically.

"No, he wasn't!" he cried, "because he run away! And left an old manin the street—dead, for all he knowed—nor cared neither. Yah!"shrieked the Tammany heeler. "HIM a Reformer, yah!"

"Stand away from my car," shouted Winthrop, "or you'll get hurt."

"Yah, you'd like to, wouldn't you?" returned Mr. Schwab, leaping,nimbly to one side. "What do you think the Journal'll give me for thatstory, hey? 'Ernest Peabody, the Reformer, Kills an Old Man, AND RUNSAWAY.' And hiding his face, too! I seen him. What do you think thatstory's worth to Tammany, hey? It's worth twenty thousand votes!" Theyoung man danced in front of the car triumphantly, mockingly, in afrenzy of malice. "Read the extras, that's all," he taunted. "Read'em in an hour from now!"

Winthrop glared at the shrieking figure with fierce, impotent rage;then, with a look of disgust, he flung the robe off his knees and rose.Mr. Schwab, fearing bodily injury, backed precipitately behind thepoliceman.

"Come here," commanded Winthrop softly. Mr. Schwab warily approached."That story," said Winthrop, dropping his voice to a low whisper, "isworth a damn sight more to you than twenty thousand votes. You take aspin with me up Riverside Drive where we can talk. Maybe you and I can'make a little business.'"

At the words, the face of Mr. Schwab first darkened angrily, and then,lit with such exultation that it appeared as though Winthrop's effortshad only placed Peabody deeper in Mr. Schwab's power. But the rat-likeeyes wavered, there was doubt in them, and greed, and, when they turnedto observe if any one could have heard the offer, Winthrop felt thetrick was his. It was apparent that Mr. Schwab was willing toarbitrate.

He stepped gingerly into the front seat, and as Winthrop leaned overhim and tucked and buckled the fur robe around his knees, he could notresist a glance at his friends on the sidewalk. They were grinningwith wonder and envy, and as the great car shook itself, and ran easilyforward, Mr. Schwab leaned back and carelessly waved his hand. But hismind did not waver from the purpose of his ride. He was not one to becajoled with fur rugs and glittering brass.

"Well, Mr. Winthrop," he began briskly. "You want to say something?You must be quick—every minute's money."

"Wait till we're out of the traffic," begged Winthrop anxiously "Idon't want to run down any more old men, and I wouldn't for the worldhave anything happen to you, Mr.—" He paused politely.

"Schwab—Isadore Schwab."

"How did you know MY name?" asked Winthrop.

"The card you gave the police officer"

"I see," said Winthrop. They were silent while the car swept swiftlywest, and Mr. Schwab kept thinking that for a young man who was afraidof the traffic, Winthrop was dodging the motor cars, beer vans, andiron pillars, with a dexterity that was criminally reckless.

At that hour Riverside Drive was empty, and after a gasp of relief, Mr.Schwab resumed the attack.

"Now, then," he said sharply, "don't go any further. What is this youwant to talk about?"

"How much will the Journal give you for this story of yours?" askedWinthrop.

Mr. Schwab smiled mysteriously.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because," said Winthrop, "I think I could offer you something better."

"You mean," said the police-court lawyer cautiously, "you will make itworth my while not to tell the truth about what I saw?"

"Exactly," said Winthrop.

"That's all! Stop the car," cried Mr. Schwab. His manner wascommanding. It vibrated with triumph. His eyes glistened with wickedsatisfaction.

"Stop the car?" demanded Winthrop, "what do you mean?"

"I mean," said Mr. Schwab dramatically, "that I've got you where I wantyou, thank you. You have killed Peabody dead as a cigar butt! Now Ican tell them how his friends tried to bribe me. Why do you think Icame in your car? For what money YOU got? Do you think you can stackup your roll against the New York Journal's, or against Tammany's?"His shrill voice rose exultantly. "Why, Tammany ought to make me judgefor this! Now, let me down here," he commanded, "and next time, don'tthink you can take on 'Izzy' Schwab and get away with it."

They were passing Grant's Tomb, and the car was moving at a speed thatMr. Schwab recognized was in excess of the speed limit.

"Do you hear me?" he demanded, "let me down!"

To his dismay Winthrop's answer was in some fashion to so juggle withthe shining brass rods that the car flew into greater speed. To "Izzy"Schwab it seemed to scorn the earth, to proceed by leaps and jumps.But, what added even more to his mental discomfiture was, that Winthropshould turn, and slowly and familiarly wink at him.

As through the window of an express train, Mr. Schwab saw the whitefront of Claremont, and beyond it the broad sweep of the Hudson. And,then, without decreasing its speed, the car like a great bird, sweptdown a hill, shot under a bridge, and into a partly paved street. Mr.Schwab already was two miles from his own bailiwick. His surroundingswere unfamiliar. On the one hand were newly erected, untenanted flathouses with the paint still on the window panes, and on the other side,detached villas, a roadhouse, an orphan asylum, a glimpse of the Hudson.

"Let me out," yelled Mr. Schwab, "what you trying to do? Do you thinka few blocks'll make any difference to a telephone? You think you'redamned smart, don't you? But you won't feel so fresh when I get on thelong distance. You let me down," he threatened, "or, I'll——"

With a sickening skidding of wheels, Winthrop whirled the car round acorner and into the Lafayette Boulevard, that for miles runs along thecliff of the Hudson.

"Yes," asked Winthrop, "WHAT will you do?"

On one side was a high steep bank, on the other many trees, and throughthem below, the river. But there were no houses, and at half-pasteight in the morning those who later drive upon the boulevard werestill in bed.

"WHAT will you do?" repeated Winthrop.

Miss Forbes, apparently as much interested in Mr. Schwab's answer asWinthrop, leaned forward. Winthrop raised his voice above the whir offlying wheels, the rushing wind and scattering pebbles.

"I asked you into this car," he shouted, "because I meant to keep youin it until I had you where you couldn't do any mischief. I told youI'd give you something better than the Journal would give you, and I amgoing to give you a happy day in the country. We're now on our way tothis lady's house. You are my guest, and you can play golf, andbridge, and the piano, and eat and drink until the polls close, andafter that you can go to the devil. If you jump out at this speed, youwill break your neck. And, if I have to slow up for anything, and youtry to get away, I'll go after you—it doesn't matter where it is—andbreak every bone in your body."

"Yah! you can't!" shrieked Mr. Schwab. "You can't do it!" The madnessof the flying engines had got upon his nerves. Their poison wassurging in his veins. He knew he had only to touch his elbow againstthe elbow of Winthrop, and he could throw the three of them intoeternity. He was travelling on air, uplifted, defiant, carried beyondhimself.

"I can't do what?" asked Winthrop.

The words reached Schwab from an immeasurable distance, as from anotherplanet, a calm, humdrum planet on which events moved in commonplace,orderly array. Without a jar, with no transition stage, instead ofhurtling through space, Mr. Schwab found himself luxuriously seated ina cushioned chair, motionless, at the side of a steep bank. For a milebefore him stretched an empty road. And, beside him in the car, witharms folded calmly on the wheel there glared at him a grim, alert youngman.

"I can't do what?" growled the young man.

A feeling of great loneliness fell upon "Izzy" Schwab. Where were nowthose officers, who in the police courts were at his beck and call?Where the numbered houses, the passing surface cars, the sweatingmultitudes of Eighth Avenue? In all the world he was alone, alone onan empty country road, with a grim, alert young man.

"When I asked you how you knew my name," said the young man, "I thoughtyou knew me as having won some races in Florida last winter. This isthe car that won. I thought maybe you might have heard of me when Iwas captain of a football team at—a university. If you have any ideathat you can jump from this car and not be killed, or, that I cannotpound you into a pulp, let me prove to you you're wrong—now. We'requite alone. Do you wish to get down?"

"No," shrieked Schwab, "I won't!" He turned appealingly to the younglady. "You're a witness," he cried. "If he assaults me, he's liable.I haven't done nothing."

"We're near Yonkers," said the young man, "and if you try to takeadvantage of my having to go slow through the town, you know now whatwill happen to you."

Mr. Schwab having instantly planned on reaching Yonkers, to leap fromthe car into the arms of the village constable, with suspiciousalacrity, assented. The young man regarded him doubtfully.

"I'm afraid I'll have to show you," said the young man. He laid twofingers on Mr. Schwab's wrist; looking at him, as he did so, steadilyand thoughtfully, like a physician feeling a pulse. Mr. Schwabscreamed. When he had seen policemen twist steel nippers on the wristsof prisoners, he had thought, when the prisoners shrieked and writhed,they were acting.

He now knew they were not.

"Now, will you promise?" demanded the grim young man.

"Yes," gasped Mr. Schwab. "I'll sit still. I won't do nothing."

"Good," muttered Winthrop.

A troubled voice that carried to the heart of Schwab a promise ofprotection, said: "Mr. Schwab, would you be more comfortable back herewith me?"

Mr. Schwab turned two terrified eyes in the direction of the voice. Hesaw the beautiful young lady regarding him kindly, compassionately;with just a suspicion of a smile. Mr. Schwab instantly scrambled tosafety over the front seat into the body of the car. Miss Forbes madeway for the prisoner beside her and he sank back with a nervous,apologetic sigh. The alert young man was quick to follow the lead ofthe lady.

"You'll find caps and goggles in the boot, Schwab," he said hospitably."You had better put them on. We are going rather fast now." Heextended a magnificent case of pigskin, that bloomed with fat blackcigars. "Try one of these," said the hospitable young man. Theemotions that swept Mr. Schwab he found difficult to pursue, but heraised his hat to the lady. "May I, Miss?" he said.

"Certainly," said the lady.

There was a moment of delay while with fingers that slightly trembled,Mr. Schwab selected an amazing green cap and lit his cigar; and thenthe car swept forward, singing and humming happily, and scattering theautumn leaves. The young lady leaned toward him with a book in aleather cover. She placed her finger on a twisting red line thattrickled through a page of type.

"We're just here," said the young lady, "and we ought to reach home,which is just about there, in an hour."

"I see," said Schwab. But all he saw was a finger in a white glove,and long eyelashes tangled in a gray veil.

For many minutes, or for all Schwab knew, for many miles, the younglady pointed out to him the places along the Hudson, of which he hadread in the public school history, and quaint old manor houses set inglorious lawns; and told him who lived in them. Schwab knew the namesas belonging to down-town streets, and up-town clubs. He becamenervously humble, intensely polite, he felt he was being carried as anhonored guest into the very heart of the Four Hundred, and when the carjogged slowly down the main street of Yonkers, although a policemanstood idly within a yard of him, instead of shrieking to him for help,"Izzy" Schwab looked at him scornfully across the social gulf thatseparated them, with all the intolerance he believed becoming in theupper classes.

"Those bicycle cops," he said confidentially to Miss Forbes, "are toochesty."

The car turned in between stone pillars, and under an arch of red andgolden leaves, and swept up a long avenue to a house of innumerableroofs. It was the grandest house Mr. Schwab had ever entered, and whentwo young men in striped waistcoats and many brass buttons ran down thestone steps and threw open the door of the car, his heart flutteredbetween fear and pleasure.

Lounging before an open fire in the hall were a number of young men,who welcomed Winthrop delightedly and, to all of whom Mr. Schwab wasformally presented. As he was introduced he held each by the hand andelbow and said impressively, and much to the other's embarrassment,"WHAT name, please?"

Then one of the servants conducted him to a room opening on the hall,from whence he heard stifled exclamations and laughter, and some onesaying "Hush." But "Izzy" Schwab did not care. The slave in brassbuttons was proffering him ivory-backed hair-brushes, and obsequiouslyremoving the dust from his coat collar. Mr. Schwab explained to himthat he was not dressed for automobiling, as Mr. Winthrop had invitedhim quite informally. The man was most charmingly sympathetic. Andwhen he returned to the hall every one received him with the mostgenial, friendly interest. Would he play golf, or tennis, or pool, orwalk over the farm, or just look on? It seemed the wish of each to behis escort. Never had he been so popular.

He said he would "just look on." And so, during the last and decisiveday of the "whirlwind" campaign, while in Eighth Avenue voters werebeing challenged, beaten, and bribed, bonfires were burning, and"extras" were appearing every half hour, "Izzy" Schwab, the Tammanyhenchman, with a secret worth twenty thousand votes, sat a prisoner, ina wicker chair, with a drink and a cigar, guarded by four young men inflannels, who played tennis violently at five dollars a corner.

It was always a great day in the life of "Izzy" Schwab. After aluncheon, which, as he later informed his friends, could not have costless than "two dollars a plate and drink all you like," Sam Forbes tookhim on at pool. Mr. Schwab had learned the game in the cellars ofEighth Avenue at two and a half cents a cue, and now, even in ColumbusCircle he was a star. So, before the sun had set, Mr. Forbes, who atpool rather fancied himself, was seventy-five dollars poorer, and Mr.Schwab just that much to the good. Then there followed a strangeceremony called tea, or, if you preferred it, whiskey and soda; and thetall footman bent before him with huge silver salvers laden down withflickering silver lamps, and bubbling soda bottles, and cigars, andcigarettes.

"You could have filled your pockets with twenty-five cent Havanas, andnobody would have said nothing!" declared Mr. Schwab, and his friendswho never had enjoyed his chance to study at such close quarters thetruly rich, nodded enviously.

At six o'clock Mr. Schwab led Winthrop into the big library and askedfor his ticket of leave.

"They'll be counting the votes soon," he begged. "I can't do no harmnow, and I don't mean to. I didn't see nothing, and I won't saynothing. But it's election night, and—and I just GOT to be onBroadway."

"Right," said Winthrop, "I'll have a car take you in, and if you willaccept this small check——"

"No!" roared "Izzy" Schwab. Afterward he wondered how he came to doit. "You've give me a good time, Mr. Winthrop. You've treated mefine, all the gentlemen have treated me nice. I'm not a blackmailer,Mr. Winthrop." Mr. Schwab's voice shook slightly.

"Nonsense, Schwab, you didn't let me finish," said Winthrop, "I'mlikely to need a lawyer any time; this is a retaining fee. Suppose Iexceed the speed limit—I'm liable to do that——"

"You bet you are!" exclaimed Mr. Schwab violently.

"Well, then, I'll send for YOU, and there isn't a police magistrate,nor any of the traffic squad, you can't handle, is there?"

Mr. Schwab flushed with pleasure.

"You can count on me," he vowed, "and your friends too, and theladies," he added gallantly. "If ever the ladies want to get bail,tell 'em to telephone for 'Izzy' Schwab. Of course," he saidreluctantly, "if it's a retaining fee——"

But when he read the face of the check he exclaimed in protest. "But,Mr. Winthrop, this is more than the Journal would have give me!"

They put him in a car belonging to one of the other men, and all cameout on the steps to wave him "good-by," and he drove magnificently intohis own district, where there were over a dozen men who swore he tippedthe French chauffeur a five dollar bill "just like it was a cigarette."

All of election day since her arrival in Winthrop's car, Miss Forbeshad kept to herself. In the morning, when the other young people wereout of doors, she remained in her room, and after luncheon when theygathered round the billiard table, she sent for her cart and drove offalone. The others thought she was concerned over the possible resultof the election, and did not want to disturb them by her anxiety.Winthrop, thinking the presence of Schwab embarrassed her, recalling asit did Peabody's unfortunate conduct of the morning, blamed himself forbringing Schwab to the house. But he need not have distressed himself.Miss Forbes was thinking neither of Schwab nor Peabody, nor was sheworried or embarrassed. On the contrary, she was completely happy.

When that morning she had seen Peabody running up the steps of theElevated, all the doubts, the troubles, questions, and misgivings thatnight and day for the last three months had upset her, fell from hershoulders like the pilgrim's heavy pack. For months she had beentelling herself that the unrest she felt when with Peabody was due toher not being able to appreciate the importance of those big affairs inwhich he was so interested; in which he was so admirable a figure. Shehad, as she supposed, loved him, because he was earnest, masterful,intent of purpose. His had seemed a fine character. When she hadcompared him with the amusing boys of her own age, the easy-goingjoking youths to whom the betterment of New York was of no concern, shehad been proud in her choice. She was glad Peabody was ambitious. Shewas ambitious for him. She was glad to have him consult her on thosequestions of local government, to listen to his fierce, contemptuousabuse of Tammany. And yet early in their engagement she had missedsomething, something she had never known, but which she felt sureshould exist. Whether she had seen it in the lives of others, or readof it in romances, or whether it was there because it was nature todesire to be loved, she did not know. But long before Winthropreturned from his trip round the world, in her meetings with the manshe was to marry, she had begun to find that there was somethinglacking. And Winthrop had shown her that this something lacking wasthe one thing needful. When Winthrop had gone abroad he was only oneof her brother's several charming friends. One of the amusing merryyouths who came and went in the house as freely as Sam himself. Now,after two years' absence, he refused to be placed in that category.

He rebelled on the first night of his return. As she came down to thedinner of welcome her brother was giving Winthrop, he stared at her asthough she were a ghost, and said, so solemnly that every one in theroom, even Peabody, smiled: "Now I know why I came home." That herefused to recognize her engagement to Peabody, that on every occasionhe told her, or by some act showed her, he loved her; that he swore sheshould never marry any one but himself, and that he would never marryany one but her, did not at first, except to annoy, in any way impressher.

But he showed her what in her intercourse with Peabody was lacking. Atfirst she wished Peabody could find time to be as fond of her, asfoolishly fond of her, as was Winthrop. But she realized that this wasunreasonable. Winthrop was just a hot-headed impressionable boy,Peabody was a man doing a man's work. And then she found that weekafter week she became more difficult to please. Other things in whichshe wished Peabody might be more like Winthrop, obtruded themselves.Little things which she was ashamed to notice, but which rankled; andbig things, such as consideration for others, and a sense of humor, andnot talking of himself. Since this campaign began, at times she hadfelt that if Peabody said "I" once again, she must scream. She assuredherself she was as yet unworthy of him, that her intelligence was weak,that as she grew older and so better able to understand seriousaffairs, such as the importance of having an honest man at Albany asLieutenant-Governor, they would become more in sympathy. And now, at astroke, the whole fabric of self-deception fell from her. It was notthat she saw Peabody so differently, but that she saw herself and herown heart, and where it lay. And she knew that "Billy" Winthrop,gentle, joking, selfish only in his love for her, held it in his twostrong hands.

For the moment, when as she sat in the car deserted by Peabody thistruth flashed upon her, she forgot the man lying injured in the street,the unscrubbed mob crowding about her. She was conscious only that agreat weight had been lifted. That her blood was flowing again,leaping, beating, dancing through her body. It seemed as though shecould not too quickly tell Winthrop. For both of them she had lost outof their lives many days. She had risked losing him for always. Heronly thought was to make up to him and to herself the wasted time. Butthroughout the day the one-time welcome, but now intruding, friends andthe innumerable conventions of hospitality required her to smile andshow an interest, when her heart and mind were crying out the one greatfact.

It was after dinner, and the members of the house party were scatteredbetween the billiard-room and the piano. Sam Forbes returned from thetelephone.

"Tammany," he announced, "concedes the election of Jerome by fortythousand votes, and that he carries his ticket with him. ErnestPeabody is elected his Lieutenant-Governor by a thousand votes.Ernest," he added, "seems to have had a close call." There was atremendous chorus of congratulations in the cause of Reform. Theydrank the health of Peabody. Peabody himself, on the telephone,informed Sam Forbes that a conference of the leaders would prevent hisbeing present with them that evening. The enthusiasm for Reformperceptibly increased.

An hour later Winthrop came over to Beatrice and held out his hand."I'm going to slip away," he said. "Good-night."

"Going away!" exclaimed Beatrice. Her voice showed such apparentlyacute concern that Winthrop wondered how the best of women could be sodeceitful, even to be polite.

"I promised some men," he stammered, "to drive them down-town to seethe crowds."

Beatrice shook her head.

"It's far too late for that," she said. "Tell me the real reason."

Winthrop turned away his eyes.

"Oh! the real reason," he said gravely, "is the same old reason, theone I'm not allowed to talk about. It's cruelly hard when I don't seeyou," he went on, slowly dragging out the words, "but it's harder whenI do; so I'm going to say 'good-night' and run into town."

He stood for a moment staring moodily at the floor, and then droppedinto a chair beside her.

"And, I believe, I've not told you," he went on, "that on Wednesday I'mrunning away for good, that is, for a year or two. I've made all thefight I can and I lose, and there is no use in my staying on hereto—well—to suffer, that is the plain English of it. So," hecontinued briskly, "I won't be here for the ceremony, and this is'good-by' as well as 'good-night.'"

"Where are you going for a year?" asked Miss Forbes.

Her voice now showed no concern. It even sounded as though she did nottake his news seriously, as though as to his movements she waspossessed of a knowledge superior to his own. He tried to speak inmatter-of-fact tones.

"To Uganda!" he said.

"To Uganda?" repeated Miss Forbes. "Where is Uganda?"

"It is in East Africa; I had bad luck there last trip, but now I knowthe country better, and I ought to get some good shooting."

Miss Forbes appeared indifferently incredulous. In her eyes there wasa look of radiant happiness. It rendered them bewilderingly beautiful.

"On Wednesday," she said. "Won't you come and see us again before yousail for Uganda?"

Winthrop hesitated.

"I'll stop in and say 'good-by' to your mother if she's in town, and tothank her. She's been awfully good to me. But you—I really wouldrather not see you again. You understand, or rather, you don'tunderstand, and," he added vehemently, "you never will understand." Hestood looking down at her miserably.

On the driveway outside there was a crunching on the gravel of heavywheels and an aurora-borealis of lights.

"There's your car," said Miss Forbes. "I'll go out and see you off."

"You're very good," muttered Winthrop. He could not understand. Thisparting from her was the great moment in his life, and although shemust know that, she seemed to be making it unnecessarily hard for him.He had told her he was going to a place very far away, to be gone along time, and she spoke of saying "good-by" to him as pleasantly asthough it was his intention to return from Uganda for breakfast.

Instead of walking through the hall where the others were gathered, sheled him out through one of the French windows upon the terrace, andalong it to the steps. When she saw the chauffeur standing by the car,she stopped.

"I thought you were going alone," she said.

"I am," answered Winthrop. "It's not Fred; that's Sam's chauffeur; heonly brought the car around."

The man handed Winthrop his coat and cap, and left them, and Winthropseated himself at the wheel. She stood above him on the top step. Inthe evening gown of lace and silver she looked a part of the moonlightnight. For each of them the moment had arrived. Like a swimmerstanding on the bank gathering courage for the plunge, Miss Forbes gavea trembling, shivering sigh.

"You're cold," said Winthrop, gently. "You must go in. Good-by."

"It isn't that," said the girl. "Have you an extra coat?"

"It isn't cold enough for——"

"I meant for me," stammered the girl in a frightened voice. "I thoughtperhaps you would take me a little way, and bring me back."

At first the young man did not answer, but sat staring in front of him,then, he said simply:

"It's awfully good of you, Beatrice. I won't forget it."

It was a wonderful autumn night, moonlight, cold, clear and brilliant.She stepped in beside him and wrapped herself in one of hisgreat-coats. They started swiftly down the avenue of trees.

"No, not fast," begged the girl, "I want to talk to you."

The car checked and rolled forward smoothly, sometimes in deep shadow,sometimes in the soft silver glamour of the moon; beneath them thefallen leaves crackled and rustled under the slow moving wheels. Atthe highway Winthrop hesitated. It lay before them arched with greatand ancient elms; below, the Hudson glittered and rippled in themoonlight.

"Which way do you want to go?" said Winthrop. His voice was verygrateful, very humble.

The girl did not answer.

There was a long, long pause.

Then he turned and looked at her and saw her smiling at him with thatlight in her eyes that never was on land or sea.

(Editor: Collectible Minis)