“Never without him, dear. After the delight of this swift motion I never would go back to lazy Roanoke or skittish Charley. I have never ridden in any carriage that pleased me like this one.” “She’s a convert already without knowing it,” said her husband to himself, but her next remark dispelled his illusion. “How can any one like a noisy automobile better than this? You can’t improve on nature. By the way, I forgot to ask you if you rode in one the other day in New York.” “To be sure. I _didn’t_ tell you, did I? It was really almost as nice as this, although the traffic impeded us some. Oh, James, look out!” This interruption was involuntary on the part of Mr. Tucker, and his words were not noticed by his wife in the confusion of that which followed. They were going down a hill at a fearful rate, when the off foreleg of the wooden horse became a veritable off foreleg, for it hit a log of wood that had dropped from a teamster’s cart not five minutes before, and broke off at the knee. The jar almost threw Mrs. Tucker out; she grasped the dashboard to save herself, and caught a momentary glimpse of the oddly working haunches of the imitation beast. “Oh, John, he’s running away!” Now, this was not quite accurate, for he was being pushed away by a runaway automobile. Mr. Tucker noticed the increased speed and turned to admonish James. James had left. The departure of James was coincident with the collision, and he was at that moment extricating himself from a sapling into which he had been pitched. He yelled directions to Mr. Tucker which lacked carrying power. The vehicle had now come to a turn in the road, and not receiving any impulse to the contrary, it made for a stone wall that lay before it. Mr. Tucker knew nothing about the working of the machine, but with admirable presence of mind he seized a projecting rod, and the wagon turned to the left with prompt obedience, but so suddenly that it ran upon two wheels and nearly upset. So far so good, but now what should he do? To get over to the back seat was either to give the whole thing away, or else make Mrs. Tucker question his courage. He was too obstinate to disclose his secret until he should be forced to, so he sat still and awaited developments. Developments do not keep you waiting long when you are in a runaway automobile, and in just one minute by his watch, although he did not time it, the end came. Too late to do any good, John Tucker jumped over the back of the seat, because he saw the wooden horse again approaching a stonewall beyond which lay a frog pond. He pulled the lever as before, but he could not have pulled it hard enough, for the next moment there was a shock, and then Mrs. Tucker sailed like a sprite through the air and landed in the water like a nymph, while some kindling wood in a horsehair skin was all that was left of Mr. Tucker’s thoroughbred.