w his luggage into the tonneau of
the dingy automobile drawn up at the side of the lonely platform, and
promptly climbed in after it. Spurred into purely mechanical action by
this silent decisiveness, the driver, a grizzled graduate from a hay
wagon, and a born grump, as promptly and as silently started his
machine. The crisp and perfect start, however, was given check by a
peremptory voice from the platform.

"Hey, you!" rasped the voice. "Come back here!"

As there were positively no other "Hey yous" in the landscape, the
driver and the alert young man each acknowledged to the name, and
turned to see an elderly gentleman, with a most aggressive beard and
solid corpulency, gesticulating at them with much vigor and
earnestness. Standing beside him was a slender sort of girl in a green
outfit, with very large brown eyes and a smile of amusement which was
just a shade mischievous. The driver turned upon his passenger a long
and solemn accusation.

"Hollis Creek Inn?" he asked sternly.

"Meadow Brook," returned the passenger, not at all abashed, and he
smiled with all the cheeriness imaginable.

"Oh," said the driver, and there was a world of disapprobation in his
tone, as well as a subtle intonation of contempt. "You are not Mr.
Stevens of Boston."

"No," confessed the passenger; "Mr. Turner of New York. I judge that
to be Mr. Stevens on the platform," and he grinned.

The driver, still declining to see any humor whatsoever in the
situation, sourly ran back to the platform. Jumping from his seat he
opened the door of the tonneau, and waited with entirely artificial
deference for Mr. Turner of New York to alight. Mr. Turner, however,
did nothing of the sort. He merely stood up in the tonneau and bowed
gravely.

"I seem to be a usurper," he said pleasantly to Mr. Stevens of Boston.
"I was expected at Meadow Brook, and they were to send a conveyance for
me. As this was the only conveyance in sight I naturally supposed it
to be mine. I very much regret having discommoded you."

He was looking straight at Mr. Stevens of Boston as he spoke, but,
nevertheless, he was perfectly aware of the presence of the girl; also
of her eyes and of her smile of amusement with its trace of
mischievousness. Becoming conscious of his consciousness of her, he
cast her deliberately out of his mind and concentrated upon Mr.
Stevens. The two men gazed quite steadily at each other, not to the
point of impertinence at all, bu