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"What, a leather-curtained spring-wagon?"

The ladies smiled; I glowered. "Take those horses by their heads and turn them to me!"

I took the hint and grew less ferocious. "While you," I said, "are Captain Jewett."

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"Slightly."

"Oh, no, no! I cannot let you!" She clutched the hand she had been stroking.

I stood equally amazed and alert. The voices still growled in the next room, and my horse's bridle still hung before the window. I peered out; there stood the priceless beast. I came a sly step nearer, and lo! in his shadow, flattened against the house, face outward, was Coralie Rothvelt comically holding the forked stick at a present-arms. Throbbing with a grateful, craving allegiance, I seized the rein. Then I bent low out the window and with my free hand touched her face as it turned upward into a beam of moonlight. She pressed my fingers to her lips, and then let me draw her hand as far as it could come and cover it with kisses. Then she drew me down and whispered "You'll do what I've asked?"

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