ff until to-morrow morning. I have an
idea that I can beat Princeman at the game."

There was more or less of sudden challenge in his tone, and Princeman,
keen as Sam himself, took it in that way.

"Fine!" he invited. "Any time you want to enter into a contest with me
you just mention it."

"I'll let you know in some way or other, even if I don't make any
direct announcement," laughed Sam, and Princeman walked away with Mr.
Westlake, very much to Billy's consternation. He was alone with this
dull Turner person once more. What should they talk about? Sam solved
that problem for him at once. "What's the swiftest conveyance these
people keep?" he asked briskly.

"Oh, you can get most anything you like," said Billy. "Saddle-horses
and carriages of all sorts; and last year they put in a couple of
automobiles, though scarcely any one uses them." There was a certain
amount of careless contempt in Billy's tone as he mentioned the hired
autos. Evidently they were not considered to be as good form as other
modes of conveyance.

"Where's the garage?" asked Sam.

"Right around back of the hotel. Just follow that drive."

"Thanks," said the other crisply. "I'll see you this evening," and he
stalked away leaving Billy gasping for breath at the suddenness of Sam.
After all, though, he was glad to be rid of Mr. Turner. He knew the
Stevenses himself, and it had slowly dawned on him that by having his
own horse saddled he could beat Princeman over there.

It took Sam just about one minute to negotiate for an automobile, a
neat little affair, shiny and new, and before they were half-way to
Hollis Creek, his innate democracy led him into conversation with the
driver, an alert young man of the near-by clay.

"Not very good soil in this neighborhood," Sam observed. "I notice
there is a heavy outcropping of stone. What are the principal crops?"

"Summer resorters," replied the driver briefly.

"And do you mean to tell me that all these farm-houses call themselves
summer resorts?" inquired Sam.

"No, only those that have running water. The others just keep
boarders."

"I see," said Sam, laughing.

A moment later they passed over a beautifully clear stream which ran
down a narrow pocket valley between two high hills, swept under a
rickety wooden culvert, and raced on across a marshy meadow, sparkling
invitingly here and there in the sunlight.

"Here's running water without a summer resort," observed the passeng