Green Fancy

"I was only thinking 'twould save a mile and more," said O'Dowd.

"What's the use o' him savin' a mile, er ten miles, fer that matter, when he never puts foot out'n the house?" said Peter, the logician.

"Well, then," persisted O'Dowd testily, "he ought to consider the saving in gasolene."

Peter's reply was a grunt.

They came in time, after many "hair-pins" and right angles, to the gate opening upon the highway. Peter got down from the seat to release the pad-locked chain and throw open the gate.

O'Dowd leaned closer to Barnes and lowered his voice.

"See here, Barnes, I'm no fool, and for that reason I've got sense enough to know that you're not either. I don't know what's in your mind, nor what you're trying to get into it if it isn't already there. But I'll say this to you, man to man: don't let your imagination get the better of your common-sense. That's all. Take the tip from me."

"I am not imagining anything, O'Dowd," said Barnes quietly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean just what I say. I'm giving you the tip for selfish reasons. If you make a bally fool of yourself, I'll have to see you through the worst of it,--and it's a job I don't relish. Ponder that, will ye, on the way home?"

Barnes did ponder it on the way home. There was but one construction to put upon the remark: it was O'Dowd's way of letting him know that he could be depended upon for support if the worst came to pass.

His heart warmed to the lively Irishman. He jumped to the conclusion that O'Dowd, while aligned with the others in the flesh, was not with them in spirit. His blithe heart was a gallant one as well. The lovely prisoner at Green Fancy had a chivalrous defender among the conspirators, and that fact, suddenly revealed to the harassed Barnes, sent a thrill of exultation through his veins.

He realised that he could not expect O'Dowd to be of any assistance in preparing the way for her liberation. Indeed, the Irishman probably would oppose him out of loyalty to the cause he espoused. His hand would be against him until the end; then it would strike for him and the girl who was in jeopardy.

O'Dowd evidently had not been deceived by the acting that masked the conversation on the couch. He knew that Miss Cameron had appealed to Barnes, and that the latter had promised to do everything in his power to help her.

Suspecting that this was the situation, and doubtless sacrificing his own private interests, he had uttered the vague but timely warning to Barnes. The significance of this warning grew under reflection. The mere fact that he could bring himself to the point of speaking to Barnes as he did, established beyond all question that his position was not inimical. He was, to a certain extent, delivering himself into the hands of one who, in his rashness, might not hesitate to cast him to the lions: the beasts in this instance being his own companions.