her
tugged and tugged at the bridle.

Ben stood planted, with his four huge feet firmly set, defying any force
in heaven or earth to budge them. His head, despite all the boys could
do, maintained a relaxed attitude--a contradiction in terms justified
by the facts--and also with a certain sidewise inclination toward the
saloon. It was almost as if he were watching the saloon door. In truth,
that is exactly what old Ben was doing. He was watching for Tim. Ben had
good reason for knowing Tim's ways since, for a considerable time, no
one save Tim had deigned to drive him. Besides having a natural tendency
toward being "set in his ways," Ben had now reached the time of life
when one, man or beast, is likely to become a creature of habit. Thus
he had unswervingly followed Tim's route to Tim's invariable first halt;
and now he stood waiting Tim's reappearance through the saloon door.
Other volunteer assistants, in hordes, hordes, and laughing as if this
awful calamity were a huge joke, had joined Raymond and the Other. Missy
was flamingly aware of them, of their laughter, their stares, their
jocular comments.

But they all achieved nothing; and relief came only when Ben's supreme
faith was rewarded when Tim, who had been spending his afternoon off
in his favourite club, was attracted from his checker-game in the "back
room" by some hubbub in the street and came inquisitively to the front
door.

Ben, then, pricked his ears and showed entire willingness to depart.
Tim, after convincing himself that he wasn't drunk and "seeing things,"
climbed up on the "box"; the two girls, "naturally covered with
confusion," were only too glad to sink down unobtrusively into the back
seat. Not till they were at the sanitarium again, did they remember the
undelivered invitations; but quickly they agreed to put on stamps and
let Tim take them, without empressement, to the Post Office.

All afternoon Missy burned and chilled in turn. Oh, it was too dreadful!
What would people say? What would her parents, should they hear, do? And
what, oh what would the interesting-looking Stranger think? Oh, what a
contretemps!

If she could have heard what the Stranger actually did say, she would
still have been "covered with confusion"--though of a more pleasurable
kind. He and Raymond were become familiar acquaintances by this
time. "What's the matter with 'em?" he had inquired as the steed Ben
turkey-trotted away. "Doing it on a bet or something?"

"