"Well, neither have I," replied McAllister encouragingly, an answer which probably puzzled Mr. Aggam for a fortnight. McAllister's Marriage I The Bar Harbor train slowly came to a stop beside a little wooden station. From over the marshes crept a breath of salty freshness that tried vainly to steal in through the open windows of the Pullman, only intensifying the stifling heat inside. McAllister arose and made his way to the platform in search of air. A spare, wrinkled octogenarian was in the difficult act of lifting a small girl in a calico dress to the platform of the day coach, the child clinging obstinately to the old gentleman's neck and refusing to disentangle herself. "Mercy, Abby! Do leggo!" he remonstrated. "Thar, ef ye don't, I'll ask that man thar to hoist ye!" The little girl reluctantly let go her hold and allowed herself to be placed on the lowest step. "That's a good girl," continued her guardian; then addressing McAllister, he inquired conversationally: "Be ye goin' to Bangor?" "How's that? Ye-es, I believe I am. At least the train passes through," responded McAllister doubtfully, apprehensive of undesirable complications. The old fellow produced from his waistcoat-pocket a ticket which he placed in the child's hand. Then he turned her around and gave her a little push up the steps. "Wall, jest keep an eye on Abby, will ye?" "Good-by, Uncle!" cried the little girl, climbing laboriously up to where the clubman stood and making a little bow, which he gravely returned. "I don't know . . ." he began. "That's all right," explained the farmer. "Her aunt'll meet her. Jest see she don't bother no one. Lemme pass ye her duds." The octogenarian forthwith handed up to McAllister a cloth valise, a pasteboard box, and a large paper bag. "Her lunch is in the bag," said he. "Don't let her drink none o' that ice-water. My wife says it hez germs into it." "But I don't . . ." gasped our friend. "Be keerful o' that box," interrupted her uncle. "There's two dozen hen's eggs in it. If she's good, you might buy her a cent's worth o' peppermints to Portland." He fumbled uncertainly in his breeches' pocket. "Do you expect me . . ." ejaculated McAllister. "Give my love to yer aunt," added the other as the train started. "Good-by!" And pulling a large red pocket-handkerchief from his coat-tails he fanned the air vaguely as they moved slowly away from him. "Oh, isn't it nice!" cried the little girl, who appeared quite at ease with her new acquaintance. "Ye-es--certainly--of course," he replied, wondering what he should do with his charge. "I suppose we had better go in and sit down, don't you think?" He stood aside waiting for her to precede him into the parlor car. "What a lovely place!" she exclaimed as her eyes rested upon the rosewood and the velvet chairs. "Am I really to ride in this?" "Why, where should you ride, to be sure?" he inquired, beginning to regain his self-possession.