sed unharmed before the engine, just grazing
it. It also appeared that she was gaining the mastery, for her horse
was rearing; then cars of ordinary make intervened and hid her from
view a moment, and the train clattered noisily on.

When he crossed the track Madge was not where he had last seen her.
The road beyond ran at a greater distance from the railway, and was
lined with trees and bushes. Through an opening among these he saw
that the horse had resumed his old mad pace, that Madge was still
mounted, but that she was no longer erect, and sat with her head bowed
and her whip-hand clutching the mane. He also saw, with a sinking
heart, that the road curved a little further on, and evidently crossed
the track again.

A moment later--Oh, horror! An opening in the foliage revealed Madge
dashing headlong, apparently, into the train. He grew so faint that he
almost fell from his horse, and was scarcely conscious, until, with
a strong revulsion of hope, he found himself under the track which,
about an eighth of a mile from the previous crossing, passes just
above the roadway. Not aware of this fact, and with vision broken by
intervening trees, he could not have imagined anything else than a
collision, which must have been fatal in its consequences.

With hope his pulse quickened, his strength returned, and he again
urged his jaded horse forward, at the same time sending out his voice:

"Madge, Madge, keep up a little longer."

The road had left the car-track, the noise of the train was dying away
in the distance. At last, turning a curve, he saw that Madge's horse
had come down to a canter, and that she was pulling feebly at the
rein.

As he approached he shouted "Whoa!" with such a voice of command that
the horse stopped suddenly and she almost fell forward.

"Quick, Graydon, quick!" she gasped.

He sprang to the ground, and a second later she was an unconscious
burden in his arms.

He laid her gently on a mossy bank under an oak; then, with a
face fairly livid with passion, he drew a small revolver from his
hip-pocket, stepped back to the horse that now stood trembling and
exhausted in the road, and shot him dead.

He now saw that they had been observed at a neighboring farmhouse,
and that people were running toward them. Gathering Madge again in
his arms, he bore her toward the dwelling, in which effort he was soon
aided by a stout countryman.

The farmer's wife was all solicitude, and to her and her daugh