our gallantry
deserves a reward. Wouldn't you rather send your horse home and come
for a ride with me?"

"My man is waiting at Fifty-ninth Street. If you'll come that far, I'll
go with pleasure."

Monty had merely a society acquaintance with Miss Drew. He had met her
at dinners and dances as he had a host of other girls, but she had
impressed him more than the others. Something indescribable took place
every time their eyes met. Monty had often wondered just what that
something meant, but he had always realized that it had in it nothing
of platonic affection.

"If I didn't have to meet her eyes," he had said to himself, "I could
go on discussing even politics with her, but the moment she looks at me
I know she can see what I'm thinking about." From the first they
considered themselves very good friends, and after their third meeting
it seemed perfectly natural that they should call one another by their
first names. Monty knew he was treading on dangerous ground. It never
occurred to him to wonder what Barbara might think of him. He took it
as a matter of course that she must feel more than friendly toward him.
As they rode through the maze of carriages, they bowed frequently to
friends as they passed. They were conscious that some of the women,
noticeably old Miss Dexter, actually turned around and gazed at them.

"Aren't you afraid people will talk about us?" asked Monty with a laugh.

"Talk about our riding together in the park? It's just as safe here as
it would be in Fifth Avenue. Besides, who cares? I fancy we can stand
it."

"You're a thoroughbred, Barbara. I simply didn't want you talked about.
When I go too far, say the word and drop me."

"I have a luncheon at two, but until then we have our ride."

Monty gasped and looked at his watch. "Five minutes to one," he cried.
The matter of his engagement with the attorney had quite escaped him.
In the exhilaration of Miss Drew's companionship he had forgotten even
Uncle James's millions.

"I've got a date at one that means life and death to me. Would you mind
taking me down to the nearest Elevated--or--here, let me run it."

Almost before Barbara was aware of what was happening they had changed
places and the machine, under Monty's guidance, was tearing over the
ground.

"Of all the casual people," said the girl, by no means unequal to the
excitement, "I believe you're kidnapping me."

But when she saw the grim look on Monty's face and one policeman aft