Heads were thrust out of the windows as the two vanished up the dusty pike, and an old graybeard loafing in front of the corner grocery gave an amused chuckle.

"Beats all how them two do get over the ground," he said.

"They ride like Tarn O'Shanter, and I'll bet a quarter there's nothing on earth that either of 'em are afraid of." A little while later the three white envelopes were jogging sociably along, side by side in a mail-bag, on their way to Louisville.

But their course did not lie together long.

In the city post-office they were separated, and sent on their different ways, like three white carrier-pigeons, to bid the guests make ready for the Little Colonel's house party..