had them changed, but neglected to have them tested. Sit still and
let me spin it on the magneto a while."

She let him do it until the perspiration was standing in fine little
beads on his forehead and he was hot and desperate. Then she said
sweetly: "I don't believe I'd wear myself out that way, if I were you,
Evan. Something happened to the magneto two or three weeks ago, and it
has never been fixed."

Blount pushed his driving-cap back, mopped his face, and came around to
dive once more into the wiring in the battery box. Dusk was coming on,
and he had to light one of the side-lamps to serve as a lantern. By
changing the wiring he was finally able to evoke a desultory response
from the spark-coil, and a little later to start the motor after some
limping fashion.

"Oh, my poor dinner!" said Miss Anners, who was still in the
light-hearted mood; this after Blount's careful nursing had resulted in
a creeping resumption of the cityward progress. And then: "I hope you
didn't have any engagement for this evening?"

"I have but one ambition in life," he rejoined grimly, "and that is to
get you back to the hotel in time for your engagement. Surely Mrs.
Blount will wait for you."

At the rate they were going the waiting promised to be long. But after
another half-hour had been killed, the headlights of a westward-driven
car appeared in the road ahead. Blount pulled quickly into the ditch and
jumped out to flag the oncoming machine; did flag it, and was able to
borrow a set of batteries. With the new equipment the remainder of the
drive was accomplished swiftly, but not swiftly enough. At the
Inter-Mountain they found that the senator and Mrs. Honoria had gone to
keep their dinner engagement, and a note in the little lady's
copperplate handwriting informed Blount that the invitation had been
made to include him, and that he was to hurry and bring Patricia.

Fully alive now to the time-killing purpose of the clever little
machinator in arranging to have spent batteries given him, Blount,
nevertheless, did his duty like a man, and the pair made a late descent
upon the Gordon dinner-table. Though the dinner was informal, there were
other guests besides the senator's party, and among them the traffic
manager. Blount, sitting next to Patricia, made their tardiness an
excuse and devoted himself to her, thus escaping the toils of the
general table-talk, which was frankly political. But at the adjournment
to the drawing-room he