another little pang, but the freshness of
the morning and the exhilaration of the ride--for motorcycling has
thrills which aviation does not know--helped banish all thoughts of an
unpleasant morning.

He reached his destination, made a few purchases, drank an agreeable cup
of coffee and discovered that he had exhausted all the joys which the
town held. He had intended amusing himself through the day and returning
at night, but, even before the restaurants began to fill for lunch he
was bored and irritable, and strapping his purchases to the back of the
cycle he mounted the machine and began his homeward journey.

It was in the little village St. Anton (in reality a suburb of the town)
that he met Adventure--Adventure so novel, so bewildering, that he felt
that he had been singled out by fate for such an experience as had never
before fallen to mortal man.

He met a girl. He met her violently, for she was speeding along a road
behind the wheel of a small motor ambulance and it happened that the
road in question ran at right angles to that which Tam was following.

Both saw the danger a few seconds before the collision occurred; both
applied fierce brakes, but, nevertheless, Tam found himself on his
hands and knees at the feet of the lady-driver, having taken a purler
almost into her lap, despite the printed warning attached to this
portion of the ambulance:

DRIVER AND ORDERLIES ONLY

"Oh, I do hope you aren't hurt," said the girl anxiously.

Tam picked himself up, dusted his hands and his knees and surveyed her
severely.

She was rather small of stature and very pretty. A shrapnel helmet was
set at a rakish angle over her golden-brown hair, and she wore the
uniform of a Red Cross driver.

"It was my fault," she went on. "This is only a secondary road and yours
is the main--I should have slowed but I guess I was thinking of things.
I often do that."

She was obviously American and Tam's slow smile was free of malice.

"It's fine to think of things," he said, "especially when y're drivin'
an ambulance--but it's a hairse ye ought to be drivin', Mistress, if ye
want to gie yeer thochts a good airin'."

"I'm really sorry," said the girl penitently. "I'm afraid your cycle is
smashed."

"Don't let it worry ye," said Tam calmly. "It's no' ma bike anyway; it
belongs to one of the hatefu' governin' classes, an' A've nothin' to do
but mak' guid the damage."

"Oh," said the girl blankly, then she suddenly we