THE TRESPASSERS


With a long, nervous shudder, the Scarlet Car came to a stop,
and the lamps bored a round hole in the night, leaving the
rest of the encircling world in a chill and silent darkness.

The lamps showed a flickering picture of a country road
between high banks covered with loose stones, and overhead, a
fringe of pine boughs. It looked like a colored photograph
thrown from a stereopticon in a darkened theater.

From the back of the car the voice of the owner said briskly:
"We will now sing that beautiful ballad entitled `He Is
Sleeping in the Yukon Vale To-night.' What are you stopping
for, Fred?" he asked.

The tone of the chauffeur suggested he was again upon the
defensive.

"For water, sir," he mumbled.

Miss Forbes in the front seat laughed, and her brother in the
rear seat, groaned in dismay.

"Oh, for water?" said the owner cordially. "I thought maybe
it was for coal."

Save a dignified silence, there was no answer to this, until