t frail
machine."

"People shuddered at the first railway train, speed ten miles an hour;
now we grumble at fifty. In a few years we shall have an aerial
Marathon, with the circumference of the globe for the course."

"Hark! What is that?"

"The rumble of a train," said Barracombe, after a moment's silence.
"Shall we walk down to the sheds? There's a clear view from there,
without trees; we could see the aeroplane a long way off, though
probably we should hear it first."

They went on, remained at the sheds for some minutes, scanning the
sky, then retraced their steps. A quarter-past eleven struck. Kate
grew more and more anxious, and Barracombe found it more and more
difficult to talk unconcernedly. They returned to the house, and
entering through the conservatory, discovered Mrs. Smith asleep in her
chair. Barracombe noiselessly put some coal on the fire, and they
stole out again.

Half-past eleven.

"Don't you think you had better go to bed, Kate?"

"I couldn't sleep if I did, Billy. I couldn't even lie still. Oh, how
helpless one feels! Charley may be drowning, and we don't know it, and
can't do anything to help."

"Pull yourself together, Kate. I am sure he is all right. He probably
started later than he intended. You may be sure he wouldn't start
unless the engine was in thorough good order. Let us go in and play
patience."

"No, no; I must move. Let us walk down the road."

Barracombe was more perturbed than he would admit. It was unlike Smith
to miscalculate. His telegram was probably sent off at the moment of
starting, or even after he had started, from Toronto. If the engine
had worked at all, it would work at full speed, so that the loss of
time on the journey implied either contrary winds, a mistaken course,
or a serious mishap. Kate was so little in the mood for talking that
Barracombe in responsive silence could toss the various probabilities
about in his mind until he felt a nervous excitability that annoyed
him.

They walked up and down the silent road. The church clock struck a
quarter to twelve. The minutes dragged until it was again heard. A
little after twelve they stopped short at the same moment; Kate
grasped Barracombe's arm.

"Listen!" she said.

A faint sound, like the murmur of the wind, but becoming louder with
extraordinary rapidity.

"Oh, Billy!" cried the girl. "Run; he'll be at the sheds first."

She caught his hand and tugged him towards the park gate, a hundred
yar