a cogged wheel, the rattle of a brake. The black figure of a man with
waving arms ran out upon the draw, and the draw gaped slowly open.

When the car halted there was between it and the broken edge of the
bridge twenty feet of running water.

At the same moment from behind it came a patter of feet, and Winthrop
turned to see racing toward them some dozen young men of Fairport.
They surrounded him with noisy, raucous, belligerent cries. They were,
as they proudly informed him, members of the Fairport "Volunteer Fire
Department." That they might purchase new uniforms, they had arranged
a trap for the automobiles returning in illegal haste from New Haven.
In fines they had collected $300, and it was evident that already some
of that money had been expended in bad whiskey. As many as could do so
crowded into the car, others hung to the running boards and step,
others ran beside it. They rejoiced over Winthrop's unsuccessful
flight and capture with violent and humiliating laughter.

For the day, Judge Allen had made a temporary court in the clubroom of
the fire department, which was over the engine house; and the
proceedings were brief and decisive. The selectman told how Winthrop,
after first breaking the speed law, had broken arrest and Judge Allen,
refusing to fine him and let him go, held him and his companions for a
hearing the following morning. He fixed the amount of bail at $500
each; failing to pay this, they would for the night be locked up in
different parts of the engine house, which, it developed, contained on
the ground floor the home of the fire engine, on the second floor the
clubroom, on alternate nights, of the firemen, the local G. A. R., and
the Knights of Pythias, and in its cellar the town jail.

Winthrop and the chauffeur the learned judge condemned to the cells in
the basement. As a concession, he granted Miss Forbes the freedom of
the entire clubroom to herself.

The objections raised by Winthrop to this arrangement were of a nature
so violent, so vigorous, at one moment so specious and conciliatory,
and the next so abusive, that his listeners were moved by awe, but not
to pity.

In his indignation, Judge Allen rose to reply, and as, the better to
hear him, the crowd pushed forward, Fred gave way before it, until he
was left standing in sullen gloom upon its outer edge. In imitation of
the real firemen of the great cities, the vamps of Fairport had cut a
circular hole in the floor of