ulted with
McGuire in the shadow of the wall, instructing him explicitly in his
duties. McGuire was to wait with the machine ready upon call. The lamps
were not to be lighted. When Benton came, the chauffeur was to run the
car to the point where a lady should enter it. He was at that point to
leave, without words. It had been impressed on McGuire that utter
silence was imperative. The chauffeur was then to follow in the
runabout, acting as a reserve in the event of need. Both cars were to
take a certain circuitous route to a point on the shore thirty miles
distant, the runabout keeping just close enough to hold the first car
in sight. McGuire had listened and understood. Yet now McGuire was
missing, together with one very necessary motor-car.

As Benton stood, boiling with wrath at the miscarriage of his plans, he
fancied he heard the soft muffled song of his motor just beyond the turn
where the road circled the house. He bent and held a lighted match close
to the gravel. On a muddied spot he found the easily recognizable tread
of his tires. The car had been there. For the sake of speed he ran to
the garage near by and took a swift look at the runabout. It was
waiting, and, thanks to the God of Machines, would start on compression.
He flung himself to the driver's seat and gave it the spark. Far
away--about as far as the bridge, he calculated--he heard one short,
cautious blast of an automobile horn.

Just before the last turn brought him to the bridge, where he should
meet Cara, he noticed a man hurrying toward him, on foot, and recognized
McGuire. Totally mystified, he slowed down the machine.

"Get in, you infernal blockhead," he called. "Tell me about it as we go.
I'm in a hurry."

But McGuire performed strangely. He clapped one hand to his forehead and
looked at his employer out of large, wild eyes. "Am I dippy? My God! Am
I dippy?" he exclaimed, repeating the question over and over in a low,
trembling voice.

"Apparently you are. Get in, damn you!" Benton ordered.

"It's weird," declared McGuire. "It's damned weird."

"Why, sir," he ran on, talking fast, now that the first shock was over
and his tongue again loosened. "Either I've made a fool mistake, or else
I'm crazier than hell. I waited at the place you said. You--or your
ghost--came and took his seat, and waved his hand. I started the car for
the bridge. He didn't say a word. At the bridge I jumped out. He was
you--and yet you are here--same size--sam