"Where did you get him?
He's good yet for a spin down the turnpike and over the bridge.

We'll do it, and I'll bring you home safely to Mrs.Blandford inside the hour." Blandford knew little of horseflesh, but like all men he was not superior to this implied compliment to his knowledge.

He resigned himself to his companion as he had been in the habit of doing, and Demorest hurried the horse at a rapid gait down the street until they left the lamps behind, and were fully on the dark turnpike.

The sleet rattled against the hood and leathern apron of the buggy, gusts of fierce wind filled the vehicle and seemed to hold it back, but Demorest did not appear to mind it.

Blandford thrust his hands deeply into his pockets for warmth, and contracted his shoulders as if in dogged patience.