d over his shoulder and pointed out another of the
symptoms of the craze--an advertisement headed, "Your luck will
change." It gave notice that at Rosenstein's Parlours, just off Fifth
Avenue, one might borrow money upon expensive gowns and furs!

All during the ten days of this house-party, Mrs. Winnie devoted
herself to seeing that Montague had a good time; Mrs. Winnie sat beside
him at table--he found that somehow a convention had been established
which assigned him to Mrs. Winnie as a matter of course. Nobody said
anything to him about it, but knowing how relentlessly the affairs of
other people were probed and analyzed, he began to feel exceedingly
uncomfortable.

There came a time when he felt quite smothered by Mrs. Winnie; and
immediately after lunch one day he broke away and went for a long walk
by himself. This was the occasion of his meeting with an adventure.

An inch or two of snow had fallen, and lay gleaming in the sunlight.
The air was keen, and he drank deep draughts of it, and went striding
away over the hills for an hour or so. There was a gale blowing, and as
he came over the summits it would strike him, and he would see the
river white with foam. And then down in the valleys again all would be
still.

Here, in a thickly wooded place, Montague's attention was arrested
suddenly by a peculiar sound, a heavy thud, which seemed to shake the
earth. It suggested a distant explosion, and he stopped for a moment
and then went on, gazing ahead. He passed a turn, and then he saw a
great tree which had fallen directly across the road.

He went on, thinking that this was what he had heard. But as he came
nearer, he saw his mistake. Beyond the tree lay something else, and he
began to run toward it. It was two wheels of an automobile, sticking up
into the air.

He sprang upon the tree-trunk, and in one glance he saw the whole
story. A big touring-car had swept round the sharp turn, and swerved to
avoid the unexpected obstruction, and so turned a somersault into the
ditch.

Montague gave a thrill of horror, for there was the form of a man
pinned beneath the body of the car. He sprang toward it, but a second
glance made him stop--he saw that blood had gushed from the man's mouth
and soaked the snow all about. His chest was visibly crushed flat, and
his eyes were dreadful, half-started from their sockets.

For a moment Montague stood staring, as if turned to stone. Then from
the other side of the car came a