good to me, a
stranger. One often thinks afterward of things one might have done,
don't you know? You did the noblest when you inconvenienced yourself for
me. What trouble I have made for you." She said this so prettily that he
came gaily from the despondency into which her shrewdness, bordering
on criticism, had thrown him. He knew perfectly well that she was
questioning his judgment and presence of mind, and, the more he thought
of it, the more transparent became the absurdity of his action.

"It has been no trouble," he floundered "An adventure like this is worth
no end of--er--inconvenience, as you call it. I'm sure I must have lost
my head completely, and I am ashamed of myself. How much anxiety I could
have saved you had I been possessed of an ounce of brains!"

"Hush! I will not allow you to say that. You would have me appear
ungrateful when I certainly am not. Ach, how he is driving! Do you think
it dangerous?" she cried, as the hack gave two or three wild lurches,
throwing him into the corner, and the girl half upon him.

"Not in the least," he gasped, the breath knocked out of his body. Just
the same, he was very much alarmed. It was as dark as pitch outside and
in, and he could not help wondering how near the edge of the mountain
side they were running. A false move of the flying horses and they might
go rolling to the bottom of the ravine, hundreds of feet below. Still,
he must not let her see his apprehension. "This fellow is considered the
best driver in the mountains," he prevaricated. Just then he remembered
having detected liquor on the man's breath as he closed the door behind
him. Perhaps he was intoxicated!

"Do you know him?" questioned the clear voice, her lips close to his
ear, her warm body pressing against his.

"Perfectly. He is no other than Lighthorse Jerry, the king of stage
drivers." In the darkness he smiled to himself maliciously.

"Oh, then we need feel no alarm," she said, reassured, not knowing that
Jerry existed only in the yellow-backed novel her informant had read
when a boy.

There was such a roaring and clattering that conversation became almost
impossible. When either spoke it was with the mouth close to the ear of
the other. At such times Grenfall could feel her breath on his cheek,
Her sweet voice went tingling to his toes with every word she uttered.
He was in a daze, out of which sung the mad wish that he might clasp
her in his arms, kiss her, and then go tumbling dow