Both men broke away from the baggage-man and rushed frantically down
the line of cars, each trying to hold the other back. Joe succeeded in
grasping the handrail of the first sleeping-car, but his adversary
pulled him away. An instant later they were struggling across the
station platform, clasped in savage and hysterical combat. The station
employees were rushing up to separate them when the train began to
move slowly away.

[Illustration: Eleanor was still sitting ... stiff and silent]

They came to their senses a moment later to find themselves held
firmly by brawny peacemakers, the black cars rushing swiftly by
without them.

Forgetting the battle so inopportunely begun, they started off madly
in pursuit, shouting, yelling, commanding. But the flyer was deaf to
their cries, callous against their tears. It whistled off into the
north, carrying two trusting, nervous young women, who were secure in
the belief that their liege lords to be were aboard, utterly
unconscious of the true state of affairs. In the drawing-room of Car 5
Eleanor was still sitting, with her veil down, her raincoat saturating
the couch on which she sat stiff and silent. Anne Courtenay in Car 7
was philosophically preparing for bed, absolutely confident that the
Englishman she had loved for years was not going to fail her.

Windomshire, alas, came to grief in his useless pursuit. He fell off
the end of the platform and rolled in the mud, half stunned. When he
painfully picked himself up, he saw Dauntless sitting on the edge of
the walk, his haggard, staring face lighted by the glare of a
sympathetic lantern. The station agent was offering vain but well-