Even at a distance she recognised something odd in the fashion of his approach. He was bending forward and riding rapidly--too rapidly for compliance with Park rules. She watched to see him slow down and walk his horse past the bench in the usual lingering way; but, instead, he came on at a run, pulled his horse up abruptly, dismounted and came toward her with his hat in his hand. Belinda drew a quick breath of surprise and embarrassment, but there was no smile in the eyes that met hers, and she realised in an instant that the stranger was in earnest--too much in earnest for thought of flirtation. "I beg your pardon," he was saying. "Maybe I'm making an ass of myself, but I couldn't feel as if it were all quite right. I've seen you here so often, you know, and I knew you were chaperoning those schoolgirls, and I didn't believe you'd allow that fat one to go off in a hansom with that beast of a Frenchman." "Wh-w-what?" she asked breathlessly. "You didn't know? I thought not. You see, I was riding past one of the Fifth Avenue gates in the upper end of the Park, and Peggy here--my horse--went lame for a minute, so I got off to see what was wrong. Just then up came the Frenchman and your fat friend, and he climbed off his horse and helped her down. Anybody could see she was excited and ripe for hysterics, and De Puys looked more like a wax Mephistopheles than usual, so I just fooled with Peg's foot and watched to see what was up. There was a boy on hand and a cab was standing outside the gate. Frenchy gave the horses to the boy and boosted the girl into the cab, and I heard him say, 'Grand Central, and hurry.' They went off at a run, and I mounted and was starting up the drive when all of a sudden it struck me that the thing was deuced queer and that maybe you didn't know anything about it. So I piked off to tell you." [Illustration: "'I heard him say, "Grand Central, and hurry"'"] Belinda looked at him helplessly. "She's eloped with him. It's her money, I suppose. What can I do?" The stranger sprang into his saddle. "Head them off, of course. You wait at the gate until I lose Peggy and get a cab. Perhaps we can catch them at the station." He was gone, and Belinda did as she was told. It was a comfort to have a man take things in hand, and she didn't stop to think that the man was a stranger. In three minutes he was at the gate with a cab, helped her into it and climbed in himself. "There's an extra dollar in it if you break the record," he said cheerfully to the cabby, and off they clattered. Not a word was spoken on the way to the station, but as the stranger paid the extra dollar Belinda fumbled in her purse. "Never mind; we'll settle up afterward. Let's see if they are here." No sign of the runaway couple. Belinda collapsed weakly into a seat and there were tears in her eyes.