interval, came a hail from the darkness.

"Hi, there! Mr. Graves, ahoy! Hurt, be you?"

"No," the lawyer's tone was doubtful. "No--o, I--I guess not. That you,
Captain?"

"Yes, it's me. Stand still, you foolhead! Quit your hoppin' up and
down!" These commands were evidently addressed to the horse. "Glad you
ain't hurt. Better get out, hadn't you?"

"I--I'm not sure that I can get out. What on earth has happened?"

"Tree limb carried away. Lucky for us we got the brush end, 'stead of
the butt. Scooch down and see if you can't wriggle out underneath. I
did."

Mr. Graves obediently "scooched." After a struggle he managed to slide
under the tangle of branches and, at length, stood on his feet in the
road beside the buggy. The great limb had fallen across the street, its
heavy end near the walk. As the captain had said, it was fortunate for
the travelers that the "brush" only had struck the carriage.

Graves found his companion standing at the horse's head, holding the
frightened animal by the bridle. The rain was descending in a flood.

"Well!" gasped the agitated New Yorker. "I'll be hanged if this isn't--"

"Ain't it? But say, Mr. Graves, WHO did you say you was comin' to see?"