s notice?

Santa Catalina is Corsica in miniature, Corsica without Napoleon or
vendetta. But it has sea-gardens, fathoms deep under green water, where
flowers bloom and fish glitter in a dazzle of jewelled armour beneath the
glass floors of flat-bottomed boats. The fishermen were catching
yellow-tail that day, too, just as Franklin Merriam had caught them in his
time; and his daughter went back to Los Angeles full of thoughts of him.

To-morrow was to be held sacred to her father's memory; for his old home,
vanished off the face of the earth now, had been near Riverside. Angela
wanted the day to be perfect, unmarred by trouble or vexation; and though
she had her fears, when morning came the Model started off so well that
hope began to rise.

Making a detour, they spun past the old Mission San Gabriel, where she had
arrived ignominiously by trolley four days ago; and turning for a look at
the facade, Angela saw a yellow car drawn up in the fleecy shadow of a
pepper-tree. A chauffeur sat next the driver's empty seat, apparently half
asleep.

"That's the motor I wanted to ask you about, a day or two ago," Angela
said, bending forward to speak to Sealman--for she had kept her resolution
to sit behind him. "It's the handsomest I've seen; and we've met it
several times; two men in it always, in chauffeur's caps and goggles."

"Oh, _that_ car!" remarked the inventor with indifference. "That's what we
call Smith's Folly. Thad Smith, a fellow who made a pile of money, had the
thing built to order, and it brought him bad luck--lost every cent the
day she was finished, and he's been trying to sell her ever since. _I_
wouldn't take her for a present."

Angela leaned back, hiding a smile behind her motor veil. She did not
believe that Mr. Sealman would have the offer. His little car looked a
badly made toy compared with that golden chariot. She wondered if it had
been sold, or if it would be worth while to make inquiries. Somebody was
perhaps trying it, she thought, for often it followed the road taken by
Sealman; or, when their car broke down, as it usually did, the yellow
giant shot ahead, disappeared and occasionally appeared again.

"I should like to find out if it's still for sale," she said to herself,
gazing back admiringly. "Why shouldn't I have a motor of my own?"

As the Model trundled her out of sight, a man walked round the corner,
and, springing into the yellow car, took the driver's seat.

XI

THE MAN