ntil her
glance fell. Then he asked, lightly:

"Have you driven them before?"

"No."

"I wonder why," he mused.

She was silent, but her cheeks burned with displeasure.

"I'm glad we're to have a Fourth of July celebration," said he,
driving steadily on. His tone became casual, with a pleasant
inflection, quite as if there had been no controversy. "It will do the
natives good--stir them up. I took the liberty, after you had sent
your order, of wiring the dealer to add rather a good lot of
explosives on my own account. They will come along with yours. It's
lucky the wagon is big--we shall need it for all the stuff."

But the girl would not talk about the Fourth of July. She sat erect,
with her very charming head in the air, and let the miles roll by in
silence.

Upon the platform of the small freight house at the junction stood
several boxes, a long roll and two trunks--all due at the farmhouse.
As the wagon drew up to it, the freight agent came leisurely out to
attend to business. His eyes fell at once upon the black team.

"Pretty likely pair," said he, with an approving pat upon the nearest
shining flank. "Joe Hempstead's, ain't they? I heard he set
considerable store by 'em. Well, they're all right--or will be, when
they're a little older. I've got a mare now that I cal'late could show
'em a clean pair o' heels. She's round behind the station. I'll bring
her out."

"Of course--that's what we came to see," observed Jarvis, as the man
disappeared. "Getting our load is a secondary matter."

"Other matters are always secondary to the sight of a good horse,"
retorted his companion. She was leaning forward and Jarvis did not
miss the opportunity to look at her. He gazed intently at a certain
conjunction of curves at the back of her neck--a spot which always
tempted him tremendously whenever he saw it.

The freight agent appeared round the corner of the station, leading an
animal the sight of which made Jarvis' eyes light with pleasure. Agnes
Farnsworth caught her breath softly and leaned still further forward.

The brown mare was led back and forth before them, the colts requiring
a strong hand upon the reins as she caracoled in front of their
exasperated eyes. Jarvis was obliged to give them his whole attention.
But the girl slipped down from the wagon. She went up to the mare and
laid a coaxing, caressing hand upon the velvet nose--a hand so gentle
that the animal did not resent it. She spoke softly to he