asked, when he had brought the train
to a stand opposite the platform at Red Butte.

"Yes--no, not that, either," she added, quickly. "I'm glad to have had a
taste of the real danger as well. But I think I'd better go back; it's
getting late, isn't it?"

"Yes. Mac, we resign. Sorry I had to put your old tea-kettle in the
back-gear; but the air wasn't holding, and we didn't want any chipped
beef for supper. Good-night, and many thanks. Don't pull out till I give
you the signal."

They hurried down the platform arm-in-arm, and Gertrude was the first to
speak.

"Didn't you think we were all going to be killed?"

"No; but I did think I should never forgive myself if anything happened
to you."

"It wouldn't have been your fault. And I've had a glorious bit of
distraction; I shall remember it as long as I live."

"Yes; you have actually driven a train fifty miles an hour," laughed
Brockway, handing her up the steps of car Naught-fifty.

"I have; and now I shall go in and be scolded eighty miles an hour to
pay for it. But I sha'n't mind that. Good-night, and thank you ever so
much. We shall see you in the morning?"

"Yes." Brockway said it confidently, and gave a tug at the bell-cord, to
let Maclure know they were safely aboard; but when the door of the
private car had yawned and swallowed Miss Vennor, he remembered the
President's probable frame of mind, and thought it doubtful.

X

A CONFIDENCE EN ROUTE

When Brockway pulled the bell-cord, he meant to drop off and wait till
the Tadmor came along--a manoeuvre which would enable him to rejoin
his party without intruding on the President's privacy. Then that
reflection about Mr. Vennor's probable frame of mind, and the thought
that the late excursion into the fair country of joy would doubtless
never be repeated, came to delay him, and he let the train get under way
before he remembered what it was that he had intended doing. Whereupon,
he scoffed at his own infatuation, and went into the Ariadne to chat
with the Burtons until another halt should give him a chance to get back
to the Tadmor.

The route to the body of the car led past the smoking-room, and the
passenger agent, having missed his after-dinner cigar, was minded to
turn aside. But the place was crowded, and he hung hesitant upon the
threshold.

"Come in," said Burton, who was one of the smokers.

"No, I believe not; there are too many of you. I'll go and talk to Mrs.
Burton."

"Do; she