eside him, joy-riding in a stolen
car. And it was no lie that he sincerely believed that he loved her. No
other girl had ever roused him so much, or given him so good reason for
standing off and taking a look at himself. His thoughts of her had led
him far afield when the Governor remarked ruminatively:

"Do you manage to see her? That's the devil of it in my case! The lady's
forbidden to recognize me in any way and the right reverend father is a
tart old party and keeps sharp watch of her. You'd think a girl of
twenty-two or thereabouts who spends her time in good works for the
heathen and runs a Sunday-school class in a slum would be indulged in
her admiration for a jolly rogue like me! But the facts are decidedly
otherwise. She's never quite brought her nerve to the point of breaking
home ties and bolting with me; but she's declined to marry all the
bachelor and widower dominies in the paternal diocese on my account. And
a young bishop of the brightest prospects. Actually, my dear Archie!
There's a steadfast soul for you! But I can't see her and the regular
mails are closed to us. Nevertheless we have an arrangement--highly
romantic, by which if she ever needs me or thinks I can serve her in any
way she's to leave a note in a certain place. It's her own idea and very
pretty. Savors of the good old times when bold knights went riding up to
the castle and yelled to the flinty-hearted duke inside to lower the
draw-bridge and send out his daughter to be married on the spot or he'd
be dropped in the moat with all his armor for a sinker."

Archie thought it would be a fine thing if he could make an arrangement
with Isabel by which he could hear from her on his travels and he
mustered courage to ask the Governor how he managed his line of
communication.

"The device is the simplest possible. In our jauntings we shall pass a
town where she visits a good deal--the home of an ancient aunt. It's a
jolly old place, big grounds, with elms and maples all round, and
there's a tea house with a tile floor, and there's a particular blue
tile under a bench that can be pried out with a pen knife. That's our
post-office, and much safer than registered mail. Of course my business
correspondence is a different matter. I pick that up in countless places
between here and California--reports of the boys, their hopes and
ambitions and hints of schemes for acquiring sudden wealth. If you'd
like to use some of these addresses and have mail for