a hurried consultation within. The words "Might send us
packing!" "May take all night to get him to listen to reason," "Bother!
whole thing over in ten minutes," came from the window. The driver
meanwhile had settled himself back in his seat, and whistled in patient
contempt of a fashionable fare that didn't know its own mind nor
destination. Finally, the masculine head was thrust out, and, with a
certain potential air of judicially ending a difficulty, said:--

"You're to follow us slowly, and put up your horses in the stable or
barn until we want you."

An ironical laugh burst from the driver. "Oh, yes--in the stable or
barn--in course. But, my eyes sorter failin' me, mebbee, now, some ev
you younger folks will kindly pint out the stable or barn of the
Kernel's. Woa!--will ye?--woa! Give me a chance to pick out that
there barn or stable to put ye in!" This in arch confidence to the
horses, who had not moved.

Here the previous speaker, rotund, dignified, and elderly, alighted
indignantly, closely followed by the rest of the party, two ladies and
a gentleman. One of the ladies was past the age, but not the fashion,
of youth, and her Parisian dress clung over her wasted figure and
well-bred bones artistically if not gracefully; the younger lady,
evidently her daughter, was crisp and pretty, and carried off the
aquiline nose and aristocratic emaciation of her mother with a certain
piquancy and a dash that was charming. The gentleman was young, thin,
with the family characteristics, but otherwise indistinctive.

With one accord they all faced directly toward the spot indicated by
the driver's whip. Nothing but the bare, bleak, rectangular outlines
of the cabin of the Man on the Beach met their eyes. All else was a
desolate expanse, unrelieved by any structure higher than the tussocks
of scant beach grass that clothed it. They were so utterly helpless
that the driver's derisive laughter gave way at last to good humor and
suggestion. "Look yer," he said finally, "I don't know ez it's your
fault you don't know this kentry ez well ez you do Yurup; so I'll drag
this yer team over to Robinson's on the river, give the horses a bite,
and then meander down this yer ridge, and wait for ye. Ye'll see me
from the Kernel's." And without waiting for a reply, he swung his
horses' heads toward the river, and rolled away.

The same querulous protest that had come from the windows arose from
the group, but vainly. Then