along, unguided save by
their own instinct. Also, when they had ridden so far that it seemed
to the drenched travellers that they had always been so riding and
always should be, there came a sudden slackening in the storm and an
outburst of moonlight from behind the scattering clouds that was
fairly startling.

After a moment of surprise Melvin broke the silence, asking:

"Do you have this kind of thing often in Maryland?"

"Sure. Down in Annyrunnell we do. 'S nothin' but a 'gust'. Most
gen'ally has 'em if the day opens up hot, like this one did. But it's
purty when it's over, and yender's the turn to the Copse. My road lies
t'other way. It's a quarter a-piece for you white folks an' fifty
a-head fer the monks. I 'low 'twas them hoodooed the trip. Hey? What?
Can't pay? What in reason 'd ye hire me for, then? I ain't workin' for
fun, I'd let you know. We're honest folks in Annyrunnell an' we don't
run up no expenses 't we can't meet. No, siree. You asked me to bring
you an' I've brung. Now you don't leave this here wagon till I've got
my money for my job."

"Look here, farmer! What sort of a man are you, anyway? We went off
fishing not expecting our house-boat would go on without us. We had no
mon----" began Jim, about as angry as he had ever been in his
self-controlled life.

"You had money enough to buy fool monkeys, didn't you?"

Gerald answered promptly:

"That's none of your business! Suppose we did. We paid it and it's
gone. So put that in your pipe and smoke it."

Came the sullen answer: "Don't smoke. Don't waste _my_ money. Pay up
now, and get on. I want my supper, and it's past milkin' time
a'ready."

Melvin was shaking with chill, sitting there in his wet clothes, but
the absurdity of the situation appealed to him, and he asked:

"Since we've spent all our money for monkeys, will you take a monk for
pay?"

"No, siree. I've no use fer such vermin an' you'll get sick enough of
'em, 'fore you're through." With that the teamster drew his driest
blanket about him, settled himself comfortably, and pretended to go to
sleep. "Wake me up when you get ready to pay."

Then began a fresh search in every pocket for the needed two dollars
which would release them from this imprisonment.

"I haven't got a penny!" declared old Cap'n Jack with tearful
earnestness. "I spent every last one a-fixin' up to look like a
skipper'd ought to."

"I _did_ have a little, but I left it in my bunk. I was afraid I'd
spend