derate interest and to say as little as
possible, except to protest our ignorance. And we got the story at last
like this:--

It seems the newspapers had been full of the attempt Percy was to make,
and so on the day before quite a crowd had gathered to see him come out
of the wood.

"Ten of these here automobiles," said the spring-wagon person, "and a
hay-wagon full of newspaper fellows from the city with cameras, and
about half the village back home walked out or druv and brought their
lunches--sort of a picnic. I kep' my eye on the girl and on a Mr.
Willoughby.

"The story is that Willoughby who was the father's choice--Willoughby
was pale and twitching and kep' moving about all the time. But the girl,
she just kep' her eyes on the trail and waited. Noon was the time set,
or as near it as possible.

"The father talked to the newspaper men mostly. 'I don't think he'll
do it, boys!' he said. 'He's as soft as milk and he's surprised me by
sticking it out as long as he has. But mark my words, boys,' he said,
'he's been living on berries and things he could pick up off the ground,
and if his physical condition's bad he loses all bets!"

It seems that, just as he said it, somebody pulled out a watch and
announced "noon." And on the instant Percy was seen riding down the
trail and whistling. At first they did not know it was he, as they had
expected him to arrive on foot, staggering with fatigue probably. He
rode out into the sunlight, still whistling, and threw an unconcerned
glance over the crowd.

He looked at the trees, and located north by the moss on the trunks, the
S.-W.P. said, and unslinging his Indian clock he held it in front of
him, pointing north and south. It showed exactly noon. It was then, and
not until then, that Percy addressed the astonished crowd.

"Twelve o'clock, gentlemen," he said. "My watch is quite accurate."

Nobody said anything, being, as the S.-W.P. remarked, struck dumb. But
a moment afterward the hay-wagon started a cheer and the machines took
it up. Even the father "let loose," as we learned, and the little girl
sat back in her motor car and smiled through her tears.

But Willoughby was furious. It seems he had recognized the horse.
"That's my horse," he snarled. "You stole it from me."

"As a matter of fact," Percy retorted, "I found the beast wandering
loose among the trees and I'm perfectly willing to return him to you. I
brought him out for a purpose."

"To make a Garrison