The George Barr McCutcheon MEGAPACK ®. George Barr McCutcheon

know what you were so eager to read.”

      “Since you presume to believe the mirror instead of me, I will tell you. There was a despatch on the first page that interested me deeply.”

      “I believe I thought as much at the time. Oh, confound this road!” For half a mile or more the road had been fairly level, but, as the ejaculation indicates, a rough place had been reached. He was flung back in the corner violently, his head coming in contact with a sharp projection of some kind. The pain was almost unbearable, but it was eased by the fact that she had involuntarily thrown her arm across his chest, her hand grasping his shoulder spasmodically.

      “Oh, we shall be killed!” she half shrieked. “Can you not stop him? This is madness—madness!”

      “Pray be calm! I was to blame, for I had become careless. He is earning his money, that’s all. It was not stipulated in the contract that he was to consider the comfort of his passengers.” Grenfall could feel himself turn pale as something warm began to trickle down his neck. “Now tell me which despatch it was. I read all of them.”

      “You did? Of what interest could they have been?”

      “Curiosity does not recognize reason.”

      “You read every one of them?”

      “Assuredly.”

      “Then I shall grant you the right to guess which interested me the most. You Americans delight in puzzles, I am told.”

      “Now, that is unfair.”

      “So it is. Did you read the despatch from Constantinople?” Her arm fell to her side suddenly as if she had just realized its position.

      “The one that told of the French ambassador’s visit to the Sultan?”

      “Concerning the small matter of a loan of some millions—yes. Well, that was of interest to me inasmuch as the loan, if made, will affect my country.”

      “Will you tell me what country you are from?”

      “I am from Graustark.”

      “Yes; but I don’t remember where that is.”

      “Is it possible that your American schools do not teach geography? Ours tell us where the United States are located.”

      “I confess ignorance,” he admitted.

      “Then I shall insist that you study a map. Graustark is small, but I am as proud of it as you are of this great broad country that reaches from ocean to ocean. I can scarcely wait until I again see our dear crags and valleys, our rivers and ever-blue skies, our plains and our towns. I wonder if you worship your country as I love mine.”

      “From the tenor of your remarks, I judge that you have been away from home for a long time,” he volunteered.

      “We have seen something of Asia, Australia, Mexico and the United States since we left Edelweiss, six months ago. Now we are going home—home!” She uttered the word so lovingly, so longingly, so tenderly, that he envied the homeland.

      There was a long break in the conversation, both evidently wrapped in thought which could not be disturbed by the whirl of the coach. He was wondering how he could give her up, now that she had been tossed into his keeping so strangely. She was asking herself over and over again how so thrilling an adventure would end.

      They were sore and fatigued with the strain on nerve and flesh. It was an experience never to be forgotten, this romantic race over the wild mountain road, the result still in doubt. Ten minutes ago—strangers; now—friends at least, neither knowing the other. She was admiring him for his generalship, his wonderful energy; he was blessing the fate that had come to his rescue when hope was almost dead. He could scarcely realize that he was awake. Could it be anything but a vivid fancy from which he was to awaken and find himself alone in his berth, the buzzing, clacking carwheels piercing his ears with sounds so unlike those that had been whispered into them by a voice, sweet and maddening, from out the darkness of a dreamland cab?

      “Surely we must be almost at the end of this awful ride,” she moaned, yielding completely to the long suppressed alarm. “Every bone in my body aches. What shall we do if they have not held the train?”

      “Send for an undertaker,” he replied grimly, seeing policy in jest. They were now ascending an incline, bumping over boulders, hurtling through treacherous ruts and water-washed holes, rolling, swinging, jerking, crashing. “You have been brave all along; don’t give up now. It is almost over. You’ll soon be with your friends.”

      “How can I thank you”’ she cried, gripping his arm once more. Again his hand dropped upon hers and closed gently.

      “I wish that I could do a thousand times as much for you,” he said, thrillingly, her disheveled hair touching his face so close were his lips. “Ah, the lights of the town!” he cried an instant later. “Look!”

      He held her so that she could peer through the rattling glass window. Close at hand, higher up the steep, many lights were twinkling ling against the blackness.

      Almost before they realized how near they were to the lights, the horses began to slacken their speed, a moment later coming to a standstill. The awful ride was over.

      “The train! the train!” she cried, in ecstacy. “Here, on the other side. Thank heaven!”

      He could not speak for the joyful pride that distended his heart almost to bursting. The coach door flew open, and Light-horse Jerry yelled:

      “Here y’are! I made her!”

      “I should say you did!” exclaimed Grenfall, climbing out and drawing her after him gently. “Here’s your ten.”

      “I must send you something, too, my good fellow,” cried the lady. “What is your address—quick?”

      “William Perkins, O——, West Virginny, ma’am.”

      Lorry was dragging her toward the cars as the driver completed the sentence. Several persons were running down the platform, dimly lighted from the string of car windows She found time to pant as they sped along:

      “He was not Light-horse Jerry, at all!”

      CHAPTER III

      MISS GUGGENSLOCKER

      He laughed, looking down into her serious upturned face. A brief smile of understanding flitted across her lips as she broke away from him and threw herself into the arms of tall, excited Uncle Caspar. The conductor, several trainmen and a few eager passengers came up, the former crusty and snappish.

      “Well, get aboard!” he growled. “We can’t wait all night.”

      The young lady looked up quickly, her sensitive face cringing beneath the rough command. Lorry stepped instantly to the conductor’s side, shook his finger vigorously under his nose, and exclaimed in no uncertain tones:

      “Now, that’s enough from you! If I hear another word out of you, I’ll make you sweat blood before tomorrow morning. Understand, my friend.”

      “Aw, who are you?” demanded the conductor, belligerently.

      “You’ll learn that soon enough. After this you’ll have sense enough to find out whom you are talking to before you open that mouth of yours. Not another word!” Mr. Grenfall Lorry was not president of the road, nor was he in any way connected with it, but his well assumed air of authority caused the trainman’s ire to dissolve at once.

      “Excuse me, sir. I’ve been worried to death on this run. I meant no offence. That old gentleman has threatened to kill me. Just now he took out his watch and said if I did not run back for his niece in two minutes he’d call me out and run me through. I’ve been nearly crazy here. For the life of me, I don’t see how you happened to be—”

      “Oh, that’s all right. Let’s be off,” cried Lorry, who had fallen some distance behind his late companion and her uncle. Hurrying after them, he reached her side