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I had not. Her driver gathered the reins and I drew back.

"Yes, a beautiful story is a thing Ned Ferry loves with a positive passion."

"I give you my word I don't know!" called I as the distance grew between us. "And I give you my word I don't care!" he crowed back as we galloped apart. His speech was two or three words longer, but they are inappropriate at the end of a chapter, and I expurgate.

"Yess, sir, you are!" I retorted. "Move to that wagon! And if you take one step out of common time you'll never take another."

"I understand, General; they'll not get it."

"But if she--oh, yes!--Yes, to be sure; she could easily have got here yesterday afternoon."

I explained. While doing so I saw one of the guard reaching the prisoner's bridle to the other. Hah! Oliver had slapped the bridle free. In went his spurs! By a great buffet on the horse's neck he wheeled him, and with the rein dangling under the bits went over the fence like a deer. "Bang! bang! bang!"

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