trong gust of wind blew
the unlatched door wide open, banging it back against the wall.

To his intense astonishment, Cecil found his hiding-place already
occupied by the recumbent and sleeping form of a man, and, jumping to
the conclusion that he must be either a policeman or a detective, he
promptly sat upon his head with a view to suppressing any inopportune
remarks. A second later three men rushed into the room, and Banborough
held his breath. But luck was with him, for one glance at the empty
stove and the open door satisfied the station-master, who cried:

"Those fellows has bolted with the coffee!" and dashed out at the back,
followed by the policemen.

In a second Cecil was up and out of the bar, but not before he had
received a smashing blow in the ribs from the stranger he had so rudely
awakened. He promptly struck out in return, and from the sputtering and
thrashing sounds which emanated from under the shelf he judged that his
blow had gone home.

Snatching up the coffee and the bread, he dashed through to the front of
the house, and, emerging on the platform, saw a sight which filled his
heart with joy. On the track stood one of those little flat cars,
employed by section-men, which is propelled by means of a wheel and
crank in the centre turned by hand, on the same principle as a
velocipede.

He sprang upon it, deposited his precious burden, and began turning the
crank with feverish energy. To his joy, the car at once started
forward, and under his well-directed pressure went rattling out of the
station, shooting by his three astonished pursuers as they rounded the
corner of the woodshed. Two minutes later he arrived in triumph at the
potato-patch, being warmly welcomed by his admiring companions, who
forthwith fell to and made a satisfying, if frugal, meal.

Just as they were finishing, the station-master came up, and, being
rendered thoroughly amiable by a liberal recompense for the stolen
viands, so far forgot himself, in his appreciation of Banborough's
pluck, as to admit that there was no objection to their taking the flat
car on to the next station, provided they could square it with the
superintendent on arrival, as there were no trains due either way.

"How far is the next station?" asked Cecil, as the party clambered on to
the car.

"About twelve miles," said Miss Arminster.

"Do you know it?" asked Banborough, still glowing under her praises of
his prowess.

"Oh, yes," she replied sof