He turned appealingly to the young
lady. "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 take
advantage of my having to go slow through the town, you know now what
will happen to you."

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

"I'm afraid I'll have to show you," said the young man. He laid two
fingers on Mr. Schwab's wrist; looking at him, as he did so, steadily
and thoughtfully, like a physician feeling a pulse. Mr. Schwab
screamed. When he had seen policemen twist steel nippers on the wrists
of 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 of
protection, said: "Mr. Schwab, would you be more comfortable back here
with me?"

Mr. Schwab turned two terrified eyes in the direction of the voice. He
saw the beautiful young lady regarding him kindly, compassionately;
with just a suspicion of a smile. Mr. Schwab instantly scrambled to
safety over the front seat into the body of the car. Miss Forbes made
way for the prisoner beside her and he sank back with a nervous,
apologetic sigh. The alert young man was quick to follow the lead of
the 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." He
extended a magnificent case of pigskin, that bloomed with fat black
cigars. "Try one of these," said the hospitable young man. The
emotions that swept Mr. Schwab he found difficult to pursue, but he
raised 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 then
the car swept forward, singing and humming happily, and scattering the
autumn leaves. The young lady leaned toward him with a book in a
leather cover. She placed her finger on a twisting red line that
trickled through a page of type.

"We're just here," said the young lady, "an