frightened by the thought of five millions of money.

"Davy's tonsils swelled, and Tarpion was to cut them off. I wonder if
it is my tonsils. I wonder if my nose could be straightened. I have
no doubt my skin could be cleared."

Once more the supporting forces of nature have come to the rescue of
David Lockwin. It is clear that he must be rejuvenated. He must
exercise and regain an appetite. He must recover twenty-five pounds of
flesh that have left him since that cursed night of the Africa.

"Strange fate!" he ejaculates, remembering the almost comatose
condition in which he walked on deck, and was saved.

His eyes grow sightless. The dull, little, trivial street has palled
upon his view. He sees a crowd gathering at a corner and making
demonstrations in a cross street.

The next moment his own horses dash around the corner into State
street, driverless and running away.

A lady's head protrudes from the window. Yes, it is Esther!

The druggist grasps his long pole lightly. He takes the middle of the
street. He holds his pole like a fence before the team.

"Whoa, Pete! Whoa, Coley!" he cries.

The horses believe they must turn. They lose momentum. They shy. The
man is at their bits.