"
"Hold on! Don't do that! I'll see that you're paid fer the use of the
machine. Besides, consarn ye, you're my prisoner." This was too much for
Barnes. He laughed long and loud, and he did not turn back.
Just beyond the ferry they turned aside to permit a carriage to pass. A
boy on the box with the driver shouted frantically after them, and
Anderson tried to stop the machine himself.
"Stop her!" he cried; "that's Roscoe, my boy. Hold on! Who's that with
him? Why, by cracky, it's Miss Banks! Gee whiz, has she come back here
to teach again? Whoa! Turn her around, Mr. Barnes. They are motionin'
fer us to come back. 'Pears to be important, too."
Barnes obligingly turned around and ran back to where the carriage was
standing. An hour later the automobile rolled into the driveway at
Bonner Place, and Anderson Crow, a glorious triumph in his face, handed
Miss Banks from the tonneau and into the arms of Rosalie Gray, who at
first had mistaken the automobile for another. Pompous to the point of
explosion, Anderson waved his hand to the party assembled on the
veranda, strolled around to Mr. Barnes's seat and acquired a light for
his cigar with a nonchalance that almost overcame his one-time prisoner,
and then said, apparently to the whole world, for he addressed no one in
particular:
"I knowed I could solve the blamed thing if they'd jest give me time.
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