Mr. Wakeham and the baggage man went to work to extricate the trunk from the lowest tier of boxes. They were wise enough to attempt no excuse or explanation, and in Jane's presence they felt cribbed, cabined and confined in the use of such vocabulary as they were wont to consider appropriate to the circumstances, and in which they prided themselves as being adequately expert. A small triumphal procession convoyed the trunk to the motor, Jane leading as was fitting, Larry and Mr. Wakeham forming the rear guard. The main body consisted of the porter, together with the baggage man, who, under a flagellating sense of his incompetence, was so moved from his wonted attitude of haughty indifference as to the fate of a piece of baggage committed to his care when once he had contemptuously hurled it forth from the open door of his car as to personally aid in conducting by the unusual and humiliating process of actually handling this particular bit of baggage down a steep and gravelly bank and over a wire fence and into a motor car. “Jane's a wonder,” confided Larry to Mr. Wakeham. “She sure is,” said that young man. “You cannot slip anything past her, and she's got even that baggage man tamed and tied and ready to catch peanuts in his mouth. First time I have seen that done.” “You just wait till she smiles her farewell at him,” said Larry, hugely enjoying the prospect. Together they stood awaiting the occurrence of this phenomenon. “Gosh-a-mighty, look at him,” murmured Mr. Wakeham. “Takes it like pie. He'd just love to carry that blasted trunk up the grade and back to the car, if she gave him the wink. Say, she ain't much to look at, but somehow she's got me handcuffed and chained to her chariot wheels. Say,” he continued with a shyness not usual with him, “would you mind introducing me to the party?” “Come along,” said Larry. The introduction, however, was performed by Jane, who apparently considered Mr. Wakeham as being under her protection. “Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, this is Mr. Wakeham. Mr. Wakeham is from Chicago, but,” she hastened to add, “he knows some friends of ours in Winnipeg.” “So you see I am fairly respectable,” said Mr. Wakeham, shaking hand with Mrs. Waring-Gaunt and Nora. When the laughter had ceased, Mr. Wakeham said, “If your car were only a shade larger I should beg hospitality along with Dr. and Miss Brown.” “Room on the top,” said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt with a smile, “but it seems the only place left. You are just passing through, Mr. Wakeham?” “Yes, I am going on to Manor Mine.” “Oh, that's only twenty miles down the line.” “Then may I run up to see you?” eagerly asked Mr. Wakeham. “Certainly, we shall be delighted to see you,” said the lady. “Count on me, then,” said the delighted Mr. Wakeham, lifting his hat in farewell. Dr. Brown took his place in the front seat beside Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, the three young people occupying the seat in the rear. “Who is he?” asked Larry when they had finally got under way.