Her Prairie Knight
something brown and fringed down the sides. His gray hat was tilted rakishly up at the back and down in front, and a handkerchief was knotted loosely around his throat. Even at that distance he struck her as different from any one she had ever seen. "It's a highwayman!" whispered Mrs. Lansell. "Hide your purse, my dear!"
"I—I—where?" Miss Hayes was all a-flutter with fear.
"Drop it down beside the wheel, into the water. Quick! I shall drop my watch."
"He—he is coming on this side! He can see!" Her whisper was full of entreaty and despair.
"Give them here. He can't see on both sides of the buggy at once." Mrs. Lansell, being an American—a Yankee at that—was a woman of resource.
"Beatrice, hand me your watch—quick!"
Beatrice paid no attention, and there was no time to insist upon obedience. The horseman had slowed at the water's edge, and was regarding them with some curiosity. Possibly he was not accustomed to such a sight as the one that met his eyes. He came splashing toward them, however, as though he intended to investigate the cause of their presence, alone upon the prairie, in a vehicle which had no
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