efforts to carry it jauntily and make it appear that he did
not notice the weight.

The only stranger in the party was Mrs. Henry Appel's maiden aunt--Miss
Lizzie Philbrick--sixty or thereabouts. "Aunt Lizzie" was a refugee from
the City of Mexico, and had left that troublesome country in such a
panic that she had brought little besides a bundle of the reports of a
Humane Society with which she had been identified, and an onyx apple, to
which it was assumed there was much sentiment attached, since she
refused to trust it to the baggage car, and was carrying it in her hand.

"Aunt Lizzie" looked as if she had been cast for a period play--early
General Grant, perhaps--as she descended wearing a beaded silk mantle
and a bonnet with strings.

"Be careful, Aunt Lizzie! Look where you step!"

The chorus of warnings was due to the fact that Aunt Lizzie already had
fallen fourteen times in transit, a tack-head seeming sufficient to trip
her up, and now, quite as though they had shouted the reverse, Aunt
Lizzie stumbled and dropped the onyx apple upon old Mr. Penrose's
felt-shod foot.

This was too much. Mr. Penrose shouted furiously:

"I wish you'd lose that damned thing!"

When it came to altered looks, Wallie had no monopoly on surprise. The
Happy Family found it difficult to reconcile this rather tough-looking
young man with the nice, neat boy who had blown them kisses from the
motor bus.

"Now, what sort of a conveyance have you provided?" inquired Mr. Stott,
who had taken the initiative in such matters during the trip.

Wallie pointed proudly to the stage-coach with Pinkey on the box and Mr.
Tucker standing faithfully at the leaders' heads.

Everybody exclaimed in delight and lost no time in greeting Pinkey,
whose response was cordial but brief. To Wallie he said, out of the
corner of his mouth:

"Load 'em on. The roan is gittin' a hump in his back."

"We have twenty-five miles to make," Wallie hinted.

"Our luggage? How about that?" inquired Mr. Stott.

"It will follow." Wallie opened the stage-coach door as a further hint.

"I want to get some snap-shots of the town," said Mr. Penrose, who had
his camera and a pair of field-glasses slung over his shoulder.

"What an experience this will be to write home!" gushed Miss Gaskett.
"Let's stop at the office and mail post-cards."

Pinkey leaned over the side and winked at Wallie, who urged uneasily:

"We must start. Twenty-five miles is a good distance to