"I'll wager a dollar that Nan isn't doing that screaming. The
Warburtons never cry out when they are frightened. Hang it!"--
suddenly; "this street doesn't look familiar. I ought to have reached
Scott Circle by this time. Ah! here's a broader street,"--going
lickety-clip into Vermont.

A glass went jingling to the pavement.

"Oho! Nancy will be jumping out the next thing. This will never do."
He began to draw in.

Hark! His trained trooper's ear heard other hoofs beating on the
iron-like surface of the pavement. Worriedly he turned his head. Five
blocks away there flashed under one of the arc-lights, only to
disappear in the shadow again, two mounted policemen.

"By George! it looks as if the girls were going to have their fun,
too!" He laughed, but there was a nervous catch in his voice. He
hadn't counted on any policeman taking part in the comedy. "Where the
devil _is_ Scott Circle, anyhow?"--fretfully. He tugged at the
reins. "Best draw up at the next corner. I'll be hanged if _I_
know where I am."

He braced himself, sawed with the reins, and presently the frightened
and somewhat wearied horses slowed down into a trot. This he finally
brought to a walk. One more pull, and they came to a stand. It would
be hard to say which breathed the heaviest, the man or the horses.
Warburton leaped from the box, opened the door and waited. He
recognized the necessity of finishing the play before the mounted