Francis Lynde

“ Hungerford shoved his hands into his pockets and took three steps toward his train. Then he came back and thrust his face into Calmaine’s.
"Harry, Miss de Brutz and Miss Wainright have both told me that they positively must make our west-bound train, and I'm not supposed to know anything different. Will you go out and kill Hobbs? or shall I?"
"I'll do it," said Calmaine promptly. "But hold on a minute. Bartley. What do you hope to gain? It's all settled. You may make them lose their million or so, but——"
"Never mind; you go and kill Hobbs!" ”

“ It is only the definite catastrophe that appals us."
"How subtly you congratulate one!" she laughed.
"Mr. Percy de Brutz is the person to be congratulated," he countered. "Is your cousin here with you?"
"No; he missed the train last night at Dolomite. He is sending his man Hobbs to escort us from Denver."
A thought white-hot from the forge of audacity flashed into Hungerford's brain. He, too, was going west on the midnight train—in state, as it happened. President Brice's private car, the Sylvia, was in Denver, and Hungerford had been directed to bring it out on the line with him. ”

“ Miss Wainright and her aunt are to be my guests in the Sylvia."
"So?" queried Calmaine curiously. Then: "I'll fix it; but if chauffie is a minute or two late, you'll have to hold the train. They mustn't miss: there’s money at stake."
"How’s that?" asked Hungerford, struggling into his rain-coat.
"Eccentric old uncle and a will," explained Calmaine stenographically. "Pot of money to go to Cassie and Percy, jointly, if they marry before Cassie is twenty-one. If not, it goes to some college endowment. The old uncle wasn’t a crank—I don’t think!" ”

“ He saw what might be done: how, if the Fates were propitious, the tormenting raptures of the present moment might be prolonged for a few hours at least.
"Miss Cassie, you used to enjoy riding in my old headquarters car on the Red Mountain. Would you like to ‘own the road’ just one more time before you promise to love, honor, and behave yourself?"
She looked up quickly. "You are going on the night train, too?—in your car? But Aunt Janet and—and Hobbs?" ”

“ And she went off upon a loosely linked chain of reminiscence which ran on unbroken until Miss Wainright said:
"You may keep Mr. Hungerford up all night, if you are cruel enough. Aunt Janet; but I’m going to bed. May I, Sir Loch—Mr. Hungerford?"
Hungerford was on his feet instantly; and when the state-room door closed upon his retiring guests the Flier had just made its first stop, and Hinckley came in with two telegrams— one, sealed, for Miss Janet de Brutz, and the other an open one for Hungerford. The latter was from Harry Calmaine:
Devil to pay, and no pitch in the kettle. ”

“ I believe those two men were trying to catch our train."
"Yes," said Hungerford, "I'm afraid they were. There are always some members of the great family of potterers getting left. Shall we go in?"
In the central compartment the white-jacketed porter was setting out a tea-table, and Hungerford made the tea himself, calling forth encomiums from Miss Janet.
"You railroad gentlemen manage to get the best of everything," she said in genial raillery, adjusting her eye-glasses to take in the luxurious fittings of the president's car. ”

“ Did he leave nothing at all to your imagination?"
"He didn’t need to leave that," was the quick response. "I was with you a year ago to-day—at El Pinto; you wore a bunch of my roses that had come all the way from a Denver greenhouse."
"So I did," she admitted, adding: "And to-day I am hurrying to my wedding. Is that what Harry told you?"
"Yes; isn't it true?"
"That remains to he seen," she rejoined lightly. "‘There's many a slip,’ you know. ”

“ And you ought not to be here; if I were responsible for you——"
"I know; you'd bully me, as you did last summer at El Pinto—scold me for dissipating when I ought to be resting."
He looked down upon her thoughtfully.
"You need bullying; all really lovable women do. And you are not going to get it." ”

“ Mile after mile the quickening wheels spurned the rails, and at Betterman's, Hungerford, lying far out of the cab-window, could see nothing of the pursuing train.
ln the yards at Dolomite he was on his own division. McGlasher, his yard-foreman, climbed to the cab as he was slowing for the stop.
"Ye can go sthraight on to Red Mountain if ye like, Misther Hungerford," said the big Irishman. "The worrd come from Castle Cliff to give you the clear thrack, an’ the sivin-thirty's ready to skidoo wid ye." ”

“ It was from De Brutz, and it was dated at Dolomite:
Don't be silly and lose all that money. If Hungerford is the man, well and good. Have him stop train at Ariposa till Father Billy and I can catch up. You have three hours yet before you are twenty-one. ”