isinclined
to go away leaving with her an impression of myself so unpleasant as
the one she then held. I determined to remove it. At least, until I had
redeemed myself, I would remain in New Bedford. The determination gave
me the greatest satisfaction. With a light heart I returned to the
office of the steamboat line and retrieving my suit-case started with it
toward the Parker House. It was now past five o'clock, the stores were
closed, and all the people who had not gone to the baseball game with
Fall River were in the streets. In consequence, as I was passing the
post-office, Miss Briggs came down the steps, and we were face to face.

In her lovely eyes was an expression of mingled doubt and indignation
and in her hand freshly torn from the papers in which I had wrapped it,
was "The Log of the JOLLY POLLY." In action Miss Briggs was as direct
as a submarine. At sight of me she attacked. "Did you send me this?" she
asked.

I lowered my bag to the sidewalk and prepared for battle. "I didn't
think of your going to the post-office," I said. "I planned you'd get
it to-morrow after I'd left. When I sent it, I thought I would never see
you again."

"Then you did send it!" exclaimed Miss Briggs. As though the book were
a hot plate she dropped it into my hand. She looked straight at me, but
her expression suggested she was removing a caterpillar from her pet
rosebush.

"You had no right," she said. "You may not have meant to be impertinent,
but you were!"

Again, as though I had disappeared from the face of the earth, Miss
Briggs gazed coldly about her, and with dignity started to cross the
street. Her dignity was so great that she glanced neither to the left
nor right. In consequence she did not see an automobile that swung
recklessly around a trolley-car and dived at her. But other people saw
it and shrieked. I also shrieked, and dropping the suit-case and the
"Log," jumped into the street, grabbed Miss Briggs by both arms, and
flung her back to the sidewalk. That left me where she had been, and the
car caught me up and slammed me head first against a telegraph pole.
The pole was hard, and if any one counted me out I did not stay awake to
hear him. When I came to I was conscious that I was lying on a sidewalk;
but to open my eyes, I was much too tired. A voice was saying, "Do you
know who he is, Miss?"

The voice that replied was the voice of the lovely Miss Briggs. But now
I hardly recognized it. It was full of dis