as is my wont."

[Illustration: "This brought my speed down ten minutes to the mile,
which made it safe for me to run into a haystack." _Chapter XI._]

"Yes, we see you are out of breath," said the Twins, as the Baron
paused. "Would you like to lie down and take a rest?"

"Above all things," said the Baron. "I'll take a nap here until your
father returns," which he proceeded at once to do.

While he slept the two Imps gazed at him curiously, Angelica, a little
suspiciously.

"Bub," said she, in a whisper, "do you think that was a true story?"

"Well, I don't know," said Diavolo. "If anybody else than Uncle Munch
had told it, I wouldn't have believed it. But he hates untruth. I know
because he told me so."

"That's the way I feel about it," said Angelica. "Of course, he can
run as fast as that, because he is very strong, but what I can't see
is how an engine ever could run away from its train."

"That's what stumps me," said Diavolo.

XII

MR. MUNCHAUSEN MEETS HIS MATCH

(Reported by Henry W. Ananias for the _Gehenna Gazette_.)

When Mr. Munchausen, accompanied by Ananias and Sapphira, after a long
and tedious journey from Cimmeria to the cool and wooded heights of
the Blue Sulphur Mountains, entered the portals of the hotel where the
greater part of his summers are spent, the first person to greet him
was Beelzebub Sandboy,--the curly-headed Imp who acted as "Head Front"
of the Blue Sulphur Mountain House, his eyes a-twinkle and his swift
running feet as ever ready for a trip to any part of the hostelry and
back. Beelzy, as the Imp was familiarly known, as the party entered,
was in the act of carrying a half-dozen pitchers of iced-water
upstairs to supply thirsty guests with the one thing needful and best
to quench that thirst, and in his excitement at catching sight once
again of his ancient friend the Baron, managed to drop two of the
pitchers with a loud crash upon the office floor. This, however, was
not noticed by the powers that ruled. Beelzy was not perfect, and as
long as he smashed less than six pitchers a day on an average the
management was disposed not to complain.

"There goes my friend Beelzy," said the Baron, as the pitchers fell.
"I am delighted to see him. I was afraid he would not be here this
year since I understand he has taken up the study of theology."

"Theology?" cried Ananias. "In Hades?"

"How foolish," said Sapphira. "We don't need preachers here."

"He'd make an