ast defiant glare at the Great Eyrie, I followed my companions.

The return was effected without great difficulty. We had only to
slide down where we had so laboriously scrambled up. Before five
o'clock we descended the last slopes of the mountain, and the farmer
of Wildon welcomed us to a much needed meal.

"Then you didn't get inside?" said he.

"No," responded Mr. Smith, "and I believe that the inside exists only
in the imagination of our country folk."

At half past eight our carriage drew up before the house of the Mayor
of Pleasant Garden, where we passed the night. While I strove vainly
to sleep, I asked myself if I should not stop there in the village
and organize a new ascent. But what better chance had it of
succeeding than the first? The wisest course was, doubtless, to
return to Washington and consult Mr. Ward.

So, the next day, having rewarded our two guides, I took leave of Mr.
Smith at Morganton, and that same evening left by train for
Washington.

Chapter 4

A MEETING OF THE AUTOMOBILE CLUB

Was the mystery of the Great Eyrie to be solved some day by chances
beyond our imagining? That was known only to the future. And was the
solution a matter of the first importance? That was beyond doubt,
since the safety of the people of western Carolina perhaps depended
upon it.

Yet a fortnight after my return to Washington, public attention was
wholly distracted from this problem by another very different in
nature, but equally astonishing.

Toward the middle of that month of May the newspapers of Pennsylvania
informed their readers of some strange occurrences in different parts
of the state. On the roads which radiated from Philadelphia, the
chief city, there circulated an extraordinary vehicle, of which no
one could describe the form, or the nature, or even the size, so
rapidly did it rush past. It was an automobile; all were agreed on
that. But as to what motor drove it, only imagination could say; and
when the popular imagination is aroused, what limit is there to its
hypotheses?

At that period the most improved automobiles, whether driven by
steam, gasoline, or electricity, could not accomplish much more than
sixty miles an hour, a speed that the railroads, with their most
rapid expresses, scarce exceed on the best lines of America and
Europe. Now, this new automobile which was astonishing the world,
traveled at more than double this speed.

It is needless to add that such a rate con