The natty vehicle had one other occupant, a sooty-faced pug, sitting up very straight on the cushion beside his mistress, with quite the air of a personage of distinction. In front of the ponies' noses was a horse of another breed, a four-legged structure of wood, upholding a sign-board, upon which was painted in glaring letters the word, “Danger,” and in smaller ones, “No Passing; Steam Roller Running.” Upon this scene presently entered an important actor--I might call him the heavy villian--Antaeus, grumbling, groaning, puffing and perspiring in his efforts to consolidate the various ingredients for a durable roadbed that had been laid down in his path. As he drew nearer he gave utterance to a significant “ahem!”--as I thought--by way of calling my attention to what was about to happen. Apparently he was going to keep his part of our agreement. A suspicion of what might be his idea began to dawn upon me. He purposed frightening the ponies, an incipient runaway would ensue, and I should be enabled to play the part of heroic rescuer. There were no very original features in the scheme, but it struck me as being quite practicable nevertheless; consequently I was somewhat surprised and grieved when nothing of the nature of what I had anticipated took place. But Antaeus was more subtle than I. He wished to avoid the appearance of collusion between us, which might have been given by the execution of the rudimentary strategem I have outlined. (Or perhaps the real explanation of it is that he knew the fat little beasts of ponies were of too phlegmatic a temperament to be disturbed by a bugaboo.) At any rate they only blinked sleepily at Antaeus and then went off into a peaceful doze, entirely unmoved by his nearness. With the black-vis-aged pug, however, it was quite otherwise. He regarded the monster as an interloper, a trespasser, and he began to bark at him angrily. Perceiving that his scoldings had no effect, he lost his temper entirely, and, jumping down from the carriage seat, ran forward toward the advancing engine and continued his barking with redoubled force and fury. His mistress' attention was now aroused, and, seeing how persistently he put himself in the track of the roller, she became uneasy. She called to him persuasively, authoritatively, beseechingly, but he paid her no heed. Apparently he had more faith in himself than had King Canute when he gave his memorable lesson to his courtiers by the seashore. From his position in the rear the Driver could not see the dog, and I doubt if he clearly understood the situation, for he made no attempt to avert the threatened catastrophe. The ridiculous animal stood his ground and kept up his remonstrances against the invader; the alarmed young lady threw an eloquently imploring look at me; and Antaeus came on, stolid, grim and impassive. Meanwhile, strangely enough--as it seems to me now--I remained inactive until my coadjutor, justly irritated, suddenly growled out what I took to mean: