"That girth needs pulling up a little; let's dismount here," said Archie, drawing up under a tree at the roadside. The woman was deeply preoccupied with her book and apparently oblivious to the traffic on the road. Archie pretended to be having trouble with the saddle, as he filled in the time necessary for the car to reach him. It passed the gate more rapidly than on previous occasions, but slowed down at once and a familiar voice greeted him. "Pardon me, but is this the road to Tiffin? I'm afraid we've been running round in a circle." "Straight ahead! And I suggest that you be in a hurry about it!" said Archie, seeing that the woman had risen and was now moving rapidly toward them. The Governor stepped jauntily from the running board, with his hands thrust into the pockets of his duster. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he noted Archie's trepidation. He glanced toward the woman indifferently, removed his cap and addressed the little girl, who stood beside the pony with her hand on the bridle. A second car drew up just behind the Governor's machine. The woman was calling loudly to Edith to come to her immediately. "Edith--Miss Edith Congdon," said the Governor, smiling. "Your mother wants you very, very much and I've come to take you to her. If you will jump into the car you will see her very soon. We must be in a hurry or that woman will catch you. You needn't have a fear in the world. Will you trust me?" The child hesitated, and Archie, enraged at the deliberation with which the Governor was managing the abduction, really leaving it to the child whether she should go or not, saw the look of fear she bent upon the approaching woman--a look that yielded to wonder and amazement and hope as she jumped nimbly into the machine. [Illustration: "We must be in a hurry or that woman will catch you"] At the same moment two men sprang out of the second car and rushed at Archie. One of them flung a carriage robe over his head and twisted it round his throat, then they gathered him up, head and heels, and tossed him over the fence. The thing could not have been managed more neatly if it had been rehearsed. The Governor leaned over the fence and gazing upon Archie, wriggling in a patch of briars, unconcernedly recited: "'She who comes to me and pleadeth In the lovely name of Edith Shall not fail of what was wanted; Edith means the blessed, therefore All that she may wish or care for, Shall, when best for her, be granted!'" The two cars were enveloped in a cloud of dust when Archie, tearing the blanket from his head, rose to confront the screaming woman. Twice he had seen the child stolen, and the first occasion had not been without its drama, but the Governor had made of the second the sheerest farce. The woman berated him roughly for his stupidity while he attempted to explain. "The man who talked to the little girl knew her--called her by name. They've probably just gone for a ride."