The George Barr McCutcheon MEGAPACK ®. George Barr McCutcheon
“There is but one way, and no time to lose.”
With this he turned and ran rapidly toward the little depot and telegraph office.
CHAPTER II
TWO STRANGERS IN A COACH
Lorry wasted very little time. He dashed into the depot and up to the operator’s window.
“What’s the nearest station east of here?”
“P——,” leisurely answered the agent, in some surprise.
“How far is it?”
“Four miles.”
“Telegraph ahead and hold the train that just left here.”
“The train don’t stop there.”
“It’s got to stop there—or there’ll be more trouble than this road has had since it began business. The conductor pulled out and left two of his passengers—gave out wrong information, and he’ll have to hold his train there or bring her back here. If you don’t send that order I’ll report you as well as the conductor.” Grenfall’s manner was commanding. The agent’s impression was that he was important that he had a right to give orders. But he hesitated.
“There’s no way for you but to get to P—— anyway,” he said, while turning the matter over in his mind.
“You stop that train! I’ll get there inside of twenty minutes. Now, be quick! Wire them to hold her—or there’ll be an order from headquarters for some ninety-day lay-offs.” The agent stared at him; then turned to his instrument, and the message went forward. Lorry rushed out. On the platform he nearly ran over the hurrying figure in the tan coat.
“Pardon me. I’ll explain things in a minute,” he gasped, and dashed away. Her troubled eyes blinked with astonishment.
At the end of the platform stood a mountain coach, along the sides of which was printed in yellow letters: “Happy Springs.” The driver was climbing up to his seat and the cumbersome trap was empty.
“Want to make ten dollars?” cried Grenfall.
“What say?” demanded the driver, half falling to the ground.
“Get me to P—— inside of twenty minutes, and I’ll give you ten dollars. Hurry up! Answer!”
“Yes, but, you see, I’m hired to—”
“Oh, that’s all right! You’ll never make money easier. Can you get us there in twenty minutes?”
“It’s four mile, pardner, and not very good road, either. Pile in, and we’ll make it er kill old Hip and Jim. Miss the train?”
“Get yourself ready for a race with an express train and don’t ask questions. Kill ’em both if you have to. I’ll be back in a second!”
Back to the station he tore. She was standing near the door, looking up the track miserably. Already night was falling. Men were lighting the switch lanterns and the mountains were turning into great dark shadows.
“Come quickly; I have a wagon out here.”
Resistlessly she was hurried along and fairly shoved through the open door of the odd-looking coach. He was beside her on the seat in an instant, and her bewildered ears heard him say:
“Drive like the very deuce!” Then the door slammed, the driver clattered up to his seat, and the horses were off with a rush.
“Where are we going?” she demanded, sitting very straight and defiant.
“After that train—I’ll tell you all about it when I get my breath. This is to be the quickest escape from a dilemma on record—providing it is an escape.” By this time they were bumping along the flinty road at a lively rate, jolting about on the seat in a most disconcerting manner. After a few long, deep breaths he told her how the ride in the Springs hack had been conceived and of the arrangement he had made with the despatcher. He furthermore acquainted her with the cause of his being left when he might have caught the train.
“Just as I reached the track, out of breath but rejoicing, I remembered having seen you on that side street, and knew that you would be left. It would have been heartless to leave you here without protection, so I felt it my duty to let the train go and help you out of a very ugly predicament.”
“How can I ever repay you?” she murmured. “It was so good and so thoughtful of you. Oh, I should have died had I been left here alone. Do you not think my uncle will miss me and have the train sent back?” she went on sagely.
“That’s so!” he exclaimed, somewhat disconcerted. “But I don’t know, either. He may not miss you for a long time, thinking you are in some other car, you know. That could easily happen,” triumphantly.
“Can this man get us to the next station in time?” she questioned, looking at the black mountains and the dense foliage. It was now quite dark.
“If he doesn’t bump us to death before we get half way there. He’s driving like the wind.”
“You must let me pay half his bill,” she said, decidedly, from the dark corner in which she was huddling.
He could find no response to this peremptory request.
“The road is growing rougher. If you will allow me to make a suggestion, I think you will see its wisdom. You can escape a great deal of ugly jostling if you will take hold of my arm and cling to it tightly. I will brace myself with this strap. I am sure it will save you many hard bumps.”
Without a word she moved to his side and wound her strong little arm about his big one.
“I had thought of that,” she said, simply. “Thank you.” Then, after a moment, while his heart thumped madly: “Had it occurred to you that after you ran so hard you might have climbed aboard the train and ordered the conductor to stop it for me?”
“I—I never thought of that?” he cried, confusedly.
“Please do not think me ungrateful. You have been very good to me, a stranger. One often thinks afterward of things one might have done, don’t you know? You did the noblest when you inconvenienced yourself for me. What trouble I have made for you.” She said this so prettily that he came gaily from the despondency into which her shrewdness, bordering on criticism, had thrown him. He knew perfectly well that she was questioning his judgment and presence of mind, and, the more he thought of it, the more transparent became the absurdity of his action.
“It has been no trouble,” he floundered “An adventure like this is worth no end of—er—inconvenience, as you call it. I’m sure I must have lost my head completely, and I am ashamed of myself. How much anxiety I could have saved you had I been possessed of an ounce of brains!”
“Hush! I will not allow you to say that. You would have me appear ungrateful when I certainly am not. Ach, how he is driving! Do you think it dangerous?” she cried, as the hack gave two or three wild lurches, throwing him into the corner, and the girl half upon him.
“Not in the least,” he gasped, the breath knocked out of his body. Just the same, he was very much alarmed. It was as dark as pitch outside and in, and he could not help wondering how near the edge of the mountain side they were running. A false move of the flying horses and they might go rolling to the bottom of the ravine, hundreds of feet below. Still, he must not let her see his apprehension. “This fellow is considered the best driver in the mountains,” he prevaricated. Just then he remembered having detected liquor on the man’s breath as he closed the door behind him. Perhaps he was intoxicated!
“Do you know him?” questioned the clear voice, her lips close to his ear, her warm body pressing against his.
“Perfectly. He is no other than Lighthorse Jerry, the king of stage drivers.” In the darkness he smiled to himself maliciously.
“Oh, then we need feel no alarm,” she said, reassured, not knowing that Jerry