ich goes to the making of
many newspapers there is no end; only ever a fresh beginning. Had he
brought to the enterprise a less eager appetite for the changeful
adventure of it, the unremitting demand must soon have dulled his
spirit. Abounding vitality he possessed, but even this flagged at times.
One soft spring Sunday, while the various campaigns of the newspaper
were still in mid-conflict, he decided to treat himself to a day off.
So, after a luxurious morning in bed, he embarked in his runabout for an
exploration around the adjacent country.

Having filled his lungs with two hours of swift air, he lunched, none
too delicately, at a village fifty miles distant, and, on coming out of
the hotel, was warned by a sky shaded from blue to the murkiest gray,
into having the top of his car put up. The rain chased him for thirty
miles and whelmed him in a wild swirl at the thirty-first. Driving
through this with some caution, he saw ahead of him a woman's figure, as
supple as a willow withe, as gallant as a ship, beating through the fury
of the elements. Hal slowed down, debating whether to offer conveyance,
when he caught a glint of ruddy waves beneath the drenched hat, and the
next instant he was out and looking into the flushed face and dancing
eyes of Milly Neal.

"What on earth are you doing here?" he cried.

"Can't you see?" she retorted merrily. "I'm a fish."

"You need to be. Get in. You're soaked to the skin," he continued,
dismayed, as she began to shiver under the wrappings he drew around her.
"Never mind. I'll have you home in a few minutes."

But the demon of mischance was abroad in the storm. Before they had
covered half a mile the rear tire went. Milly was now shaking dismally,
for all her brave attempts to conceal it. A few rods away a sign
announced "Markby's Road-House." Concerned solely to get the girl into a
warm and dry place, Hal turned in, bundled her out, ordered a private
room with a fireplace, and induced the proprietor's wife by the
persuasions of a ten-dollar bill to provide a change of clothing for the
outer, and hot drinks for the inner, woman.

Half an hour later when he had affixed a new tire to the wheel, he and
Milly sat, warmed and comforted before blazing logs, waiting for her
clothes to dry out.

"I know I look a fright," she mourned. "That Mrs. Markby must buy her
dresses by the pound."

She gazed at him comically from above a quaint and nondescript garment,
to which she had gi