lop.

"Beat it!" says I to Goggles, and he was reachin' for the speed lever,
when he sees a town constable, with a tin badge like a stove-lid, pull a
brass watch on us.

"What's the limit?" shouts Pinckney.

"Ten an hour or ten dollars," says he.

"Here's your ten and costs," says Pinckney, tossing him a sawbuck. "Go
ahead, Francois."

We jumped into that village ordinance at a forty-mile an hour clip and
would have had Rajah hull down in about two minutes, but Pinckney had
to take one last look. The poor old mutt had quit after a few jumps. He
had squat in the middle of the road, lifted up his trombone frontispiece
and was bellowin' out his grief like a calf that has lost its mommer.
Pinckney couldn't stand for that for a minute.

"I say now, we'll have to go back," says he. "That wail would haunt me
for days if I didn't."

So back we goes to Rajah, and he almost stands on his head, he's so glad
to see us again.

"We'll just have to slip away without his knowing it next time," says
Pinckney. "Perhaps he will get over his gratitude in an hour or so."

We unhitches Rajah from the stable floor and starts back for the hotel.
The landlord met us half-way.

"Don't you bring that critter near my place ag'in!" shouts he. "Take him
away before he tears the house down."

An' no jollyin' nor green money would change that hayseed's mind. The
whole population was with him too. While we were jawin' about it, along
comes the town marshal with some kind of injunction warnin' us to remove
Rajah, the same bein' a menace to life and property.

There wa'n't nothing for it but to sneak. We moves out of that burg at
half speed, with old Rajah paddin' close behind, his trunk restin'
affectionately on the tonneau-back and a kind of satisfied right-to-home
look in them little eyes of his. Made me feel like a pair of yellow
shoes at a dance, but Pinckney seemed to think there was something funny
about it. "'And over the hills and far away the happy Princess followed
him,' as Tennyson puts it," says he.

"Tennyson was dead onto his job," says I. "But when do we annex the
steam calliope and the boys in red coats with banners? We ought to have
the rest of the grand forenoon parade, or else shake Rajah."

"Oh, perhaps we can find quarters for him in the next town, where he
hasn't disgraced himself," says Pinckney.

Pinckney hadn't counted on the telephone, though. A posse with shot-guns
and bench-warrants met us a mile out from t