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"Law, you hain't!" cried Mrs. Wall, smiling back as she jounced. "If you air, the Majo's sisteh's got written awdehs fo' you."

His smile darkened. "I am your prisoner," he said, with a sudden splendid stateliness, and right then I guessed who he was.

"My mother! Do you know my mother?"

"Good-morning," he responded, tardily and grimly. "Well, you air in a hurry."

The thunder of our own hoofs Was all the sound we heard.

"Why, Smith,--" He extended a soothing hand.

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