was to be promptly handed over to her parents once more. He even intimated, for her further comfort, that any dastard that spoke in aught but gentle words to her should promptly swing from a yardarm.
All this Pauline Augusta in no way understood; but while she was wearing her grief away, and was beginning to smell with slightly more attentive nose at the many delectable things with which her captors had surrounded her, the old town of Chamboro was left in the well-churned wake of the Greyhound, and the midsummer loneliness of the upper river lay before them.
Suddenly one of the panting rowers dropped his oar.
"Say, you, we 're bein' chased!" he cried, shrilly. And twenty-two round and startled eyes were turned in the direction of his gaze, where the nose of a familiar-looking green boat crept slowly out from the nearest point.
"Why, there 's Grandpa Steiner!" said one of the oarsmen, weakly.
Pauline Augusta's expiring sobs were completely stilled. All eyes watched the green boat intently.
