The maid ran after him and arrived at his side breathless, excited: 

“Oh, could you come—­just for a moment, if you please, sir!  Miss Carr won’t eat her luncheon!”

“What!” said the young man, surprised.

“Miss Carr wishes to see you—­just for a——­”

“Miss Carr?”

“Miss Sacharissa!”

“Sacharissa?”

“Y-yes, sir—­she——­”

“But I don’t know any Miss Sacharissa!”

“I understand that, sir.”

“Look here, young woman, do you know my name?”

“No, sir, but that doesn’t make any difference to Miss Carr.”

“She wishes to see me!”

“Oh, yes, sir.”

“I—­I’m in a hurry to catch a train.”  He looked hard at the maid, at his watch, at the maid again.

“Are you perfectly sure you’re not mistaken?” he demanded.

“No, sir, I——­”

“A certain Miss Sacharissa Carr desires to see me? Are you certain of that?”

“Oh, yes, sir—­she——­”

“Where does she live?”

“One thousand eight and a half Fifth Avenue, sir.”

“I’ve got just three minutes.  Can you run?”

“I—­yes!”

“Come on, then!”

And away they galloped, his overcoat streaming out behind, the maid’s skirts flapping and her narrow apron flickering in the wind.  Wayfarers stopped to watch their pace—­a pace which brought them to the house in something under a minute.  Ferdinand, the second man, let them in.

“Now, then,” panted the young man, “which way?  I’m in a hurry, remember!” And he started on a run for the stairs.

“Please follow me, sir; the elevator is quicker!” gasped the maid, opening the barred doors.

The young man sprang into the lighted car, the maid turned to fling off hat and jacket before entering; something went fizz-bang! snap! clink! and the lights in the car were extinguished.

“Oh!” shrieked the maid, “it’s running away again!  Jump, sir!”

The ornate, rococo elevator, as a matter of fact, was running away, upward, slowly at first.  Its astonished occupant turned to jump out—­too late.

“P-push the third button, sir!  Quick!” cried the maid, wringing her hands.

“W-where is it!” stammered the young man, groping nervously in the dark car.  “I can’t see any.”

“Cr-rack!” went something.

“It’s stopped!  It’s going to fall!” screamed the maid.  “Run, Ferdinand!”

The man at the door ran upstairs for a few steps, then distractedly slid to the bottom, shouting: 

“Are you hurt, sir?”

“No,” came a disgusted voice from somewhere up the shaft.

Every landing was now noisy with servants, maids sped upstairs, flunkeys sped down, a butler waddled in a circle.

“Is anybody going to get me out of this?” demanded the voice in the shaft.  “I’ve a train to catch.”

The perspiring butler poked his head into the shaft from below: