"To San Marco," cried the girl breathlessly. "Can you get us there by one o'clock?"
"To—to—say, lady," stammered the rustic chauffeur. "That train you just got off of is going to San Marco."
"Oh, no, it isn't," Minot explained. "We know better. It's going out into the country to lie down under a shade tree and rest."
"The train is too slow," said the girl. "I must be in San Marco before one o'clock. Can you get me—us—there by then? Speak quickly, please."
The effect of this request on the chauffeur was to induce even greater confusion.
"T — to — to San Marco," he stumbled. "W—well, say, that's a new one on me. Never had this car out o' Sunbeam yet."
"Please—please!" the girl pleaded.
"Lady," said the chauffeur, "I'd do anything I could, within reason—"
"Can you get us to San Marco by one o'clock?" she demanded.
"I ain't no prophet, lady." A humorous gleam came into his eye. "But ever since I got this car I been feelin' sort o' reckless. If you say so, I'll
