r wanted this crazy poke," he asserted over a shoulder
to Gwendolyn. "Now, I'll just get rid of it. And I'll present that
bonnet with the bee" (here he laughed harshly) "to a woman that hasn't
footed a single one of my bills. Ha! ha!"

_Buzz-z-z-z!_

Again that high, strident note. Gwendolyn's mother was circling into
sight once more. Fortunately, she was keeping close to the outer edge of
the road. The Piper faced in the direction she was speeding, and
prepared to race beside her.

_BUZZ-Z-Z-Z!_

It was an exciting moment! She was holding out the bonnet as before. He
thrust the poke between her face and it, carefully keeping the lace and
the bows in front of her very eyes.

"Madam!" he shouted. "Trade!"

"Moth-er!"

Her mother heard. Her look fell upon the poke. She slowed to a walk.

"_Trade!_" shouted the Piper again, dangling the poke temptingly.

She stopped short, gazing hard at the poke. "Trade?" she repeated
coldly. (Her voice sounded as if from a great distance.) "Trade? Well,
that depends upon what They say."

Then she circled on--at such a terrible rate that the Piper could not
keep pace. He ceased running and fell behind, breathing hard and
complaining ill-temperedly.

"Oh! Oh!" mourned Gwendolyn. The smoke blown back from that fleeing
figure smarted her throat and eyes. She raised an arm to shield her
face. Disappointed, and feeling a first touch of weariness, she could
not choke back a great sob that shook her convulsively.

The Man-Who-Makes-Faces, whiskers buried in his ragged collar, was
nodding thoughtfully "By and by," he murmured; "--by and by, presently,
later on."

The Doctor was even more comforting. "There! There!" he said. "Don't
cry."

"But, oh," breathed Gwendolyn, her bosom heaving, "why don't you feel
_her_ pulse?"

"It's--it's terrible," faltered Gwendolyn's father. His agonized look
was fixed upon the road.

Now the road was indeed terrible. For there were great chasms in
it--chasms that yawned darkly; that opened and closed as if by the rush
and receding of water. Gwendolyn's mother crossed them in flitting
leaps, as from one roof-top to another. Her daintily shod feet scarcely
touched the road, so swift was her going. A second, and she was whipped
from sight at the Barn's corner. About her slender figure, as it
disappeared, dust mingled with the smoke--mingled and swirled,
funnel-like in shape, with a wide base and a narrow top, like the
picture of a water-spout in