ad.'

"The levers move, down goes the brake, and we're there.

"'Eleven miles in fourteen minutes!' Harry exclaims, as I spring out
and hurry to the door. It was really sixteen minutes, but I always
allow Harry a slight discount.

"'Not in!' I shout, in a second.

"'Not in--heart of Allah!--where is he?'

"'At the Wilton job on the point.'

"'We'll go get him.'

"'You go; I'll wait here.'

"Away he rushes--I thank God for the brief respite. This high power
encourages great familiarity with the higher powers. But the Creator's
name is used here in no light or profane spirit, let me say. In each
case it is only a brief prayer or, rather, the beginning of a prayer
which one has not time to finish. It is cut short by a new adventure.

"I say to myself that I shall not ride back with Harry. No, life is
still dear to me. I will take the trolley. And yet--what thrilling,
Jove-like, superhuman deviltry it was! I light a cigar and sit down.
Harry and Wilton arrive. Fifteen minutes gone!

"I get down to business.

"Harry says: 'Please cut it short.'

"I could have saved five hundred dollars if I had had time to present
our side of the case with proper deliberation. But Harry keeps
shouting:

"'Do cut it short. I _must_ get there--don't you know?'

"Wilton must have his pay, too--he needs every cent of it to-morrow.

"'You go on. I'll stay here and settle this matter and go home by the
trolley.'

"'Let's stick together,' my young friend entreats. 'Please hurry it
through and come on with me. I need you.'

"Harry must have company. His time is wasted unless he has a
spectator--an audience--a witness--a historian. Without that, all his
hair-breadth escapes would be thrown away. His stories would hang by a
thread.

"'We've only twenty-one minutes,' he calls.

"I say to myself: 'Damn the man whose money is like water and whose
time is more precious than the last hour of Mahomet.' Well, of course,
there was plenty of money, but the supply of time was limited. To
waste a second was to lose an opportunity for self-indulgence.

"I draw a check and take a hurried receipt and jump in.

"Away we go. 'Look out!'

"The brakes grind, and we rise in the air a little as a small boy
crosses our bows. We just missed him--thank God!

"'Don't be reckless, old man--go a bit slower.'

"'It's all right. We've a clear road now.'

"What a wind in our faces! There's the track ahead.

"'_Look out! The train! God Almighty!_