d think of was the picture of Giant Despair in her grandmother's
copy of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress.

Unable to imagine who or what he could be, Catherine stood for some
moments and stared at him, fascinated. All the while Theodora was
anxiously whispering:

"Who is it? Who is it? Oh, let me see!"

"Don't try to look," Catherine answered earnestly, as she leaped to the
floor. "Doad, we must get out if we can."

She threw herself at the door again and tried to pull it open; Theodora
joined her, but even together they could not stir it.

Meanwhile the "saloon" swayed and jolted over the rough road; to keep
from pitching headlong from side to side the girls had to sit down on
the sacks. Their one consoling thought was that, if they could not get
out, their captor, whoever he was, could not get in.

They were a little cheered, too, when they realized that the wagon was
apparently following the road that led toward home. But when they had
gone about three or four miles and had come to the branch road that led
to Lurvey's Mills, they felt the old "saloon" turn off from the main
road. With sinking hearts they struggled again to open the door, until,
weak and exhausted, they gave up.

Theodora was limp with terror at their plight. Catherine, more resolute,
tried to encourage her companion; but as they jogged and jolted over the
deserted road for what seemed hours, even her own courage began to
weaken.

At last they came to a ford that led across a muddy brook. As the horse
entered the water, the forward end of the rickety old "saloon" pitched
sharply downward. The prop that had held the door fast loosened and the
door flew open!

Needless to say, the girls lost little time in getting out of their
prison. Before the "saloon" had topped the other bank, they jumped out
and ran into the alder bushes that bordered the stream.

Their captor was evidently not aware of their escape, for the "saloon"
kept on its course. As soon as it was out of sight the girls waded the
brook and, hastening back to the fork of the road, took the homeward
trail.

About four o'clock in the morning grandmother Ruth heard them knocking
at the door. They were still much excited, and told so wild and curious
a story of their adventure that after breakfast the old Squire and
Addison drove over to Lurvey's Mills to investigate.

Almost the first thing they saw when they reached the Mills was that old
"daguerreotype saloon," standing beside the r