“After you,” said Sandy.

Carter measured his man, then stepped to the ground.  Sandy promptly followed.

“And now,” said Carter, “you’ll perhaps be good enough to explain what you mean.”

Sandy still kept his hand on the buggy and his eyes on Annette; when he spoke it was to her.

“If it’s your wish to go on, say the word.”

The tearful young person in the buggy looked very limp and miserable, but declined to make any remarks.

“Miss Fenton and I expect to be married this evening,” said Carter, striving for dignity, though his breath came short with excitement.  “We take the train in twenty minutes.  Your interference is not only impudent—­it’s useless.  I know perfectly well who sent you:  it was Judge Hollis.  He was the only man we met after we left town.  Just return to him, with my compliments, and tell him I say he is a meddler and a fool!”

“Annette,” said Sandy, softly, coming toward her, “the doctor’ll be wanting his coffee by now.”

“Let me pass,” cried Carter, “you common hound!  Take your foot off that step or I’ll—­” He made a quick motion toward his hip, and Sandy caught his hand as it closed on a pearl-handled revolver.

“None of that, man!  I’ll be going when I have her word.  Is it good-by, Annette?  Must I be taking the word to your father that you’ve left him now and for always?  Yes?  Then a shake of the hand for old times’ sake.”

Annette slipped a cold little hand into his free one, and feeling the solid grasp of his broad palm, she clung to it as a drowning man clings to a spar.

“I can’t go!” she cried, in a burst of tears.  “I can’t leave dad this way!  Make him take me b-back, Sandy!  I want to go home!”

Carter stood very still and white.  His thin body was trembling from head to foot, and the veins stood out on his forehead like whip-cord.  He clenched his hands in an effort to control himself.  At Annette’s words he stepped aside with elaborate courtesy.

“You are at perfect liberty to go with Mr. Kilday.  All I ask is that he will meet me as soon as we get back to town.”

“I can’t go b-back on the train!” cried Annette, with a glance at her bags and boxes.  “Every one would suspect something if I did.  Oh, why d-did I come?”

“My buggy is at your disposal,” said Carter; “perhaps your disinterested friend, Mr. Kilday, could be persuaded to drive you back.”

“But, Carter,” cried Annette, in quick dismay, “you must come, too.  I’ll bring dad r-round; I always do.  Then we can be married at home, and I can have a veil and a r-ring and presents.”

She smiled at him coaxingly, but he folded his arms and scowled.

“You go with me to the city, or you go back to Clayton with him.  You have just three minutes to make up your mind.”

[Illustration:  “Sandy saw her waver”]

Sandy saw her waver.  The first minute she looked at him, the second at Carter.  He took no chances on the third.  With a quick bound, he was in the buggy and turning the horse homeward.