solemnly.

At this moment along the drive came the new gardener wheeling a barrow
of fresh mold, his rake and hoe lying across it. "Palmer!" Pauline
cried.

The man let fall the barrow as if he had been cut with a whip lash. He
looked up and for an instant his dazed eyes seemed to brighten. Then
he picked up the barrow as if no one had spoken and went on.

Pauline followed him.

"Bring out the roadster," she called over her shoulder, and, as she
stopped beside the gardener. The garage men, bewildered, but used to
the kindly vagaries of their pretty employer, sent the machine down
driveway.

"Can you drive an automobile, Palmer?" asked Pauline.

This time the man's eyes did not brighten. He looked at her
respectfully, but dully. She drew him to the car and repeated the
question. He only grinned foolishly and kept on shaking his head.

"Wait," she said, and, running back to the house, reappeared directly
wearing her hat and flowing white wrap. "Come, Palmer, you must drive
me to the wedding," she declared.

She made him get into the car and take the wheel. As she got in beside
him, his hands fumbled aimlessly with the lever.

"Palmer! Palmer!" she dinned his forgotten name into his ears. "Don't
you remember the race, the road, the flying cars, the speed, the
speed! Don't you remember the man who was in the lead--the man the
crowd cheered for? That was you, Palmer, the greatest of all the
drivers."

She leaned forward in the seat, arms outstretched as if holding a
tugging wheel, eyes set straight ahead, slippered feet threading
imaginary levers, graceful body swerving.

He watched her, frowning. A vague purpose seemed to animate the hand
groping with the levers.

"Wake up, Palmer! It's time for the race--the Vanderbilt Cup. Kirby
and Michaels have started. There's Wharton coming to the line. Don't
you see the crowds? Can't you hear them cheering? Palmer! Palmer! *
* * Yes, we're coming! * * * Palmer is coming back. * * * Way there!"

He found the self-starter; the engine sounded. He found the clutch and
gears. His eyes were shut. The car started slowly and he opened his
eyes. Pauline sank back in the seat, laughing and clapping her hands,
half hysterically.

"Bravo, Palmer!" she exulted.

The astonished workmen saw them glide through the outer gate. Raymond
Owen from his window saw them and rubbed his hands pleasantly. Fate
indeed seemed to be favoring his deadly work today!