“Well, what do you want?”

“I want a drive down the road.  Will ye take me?”

“No, I can’t.  I’m in a hurry.  Get away from the car.  I don’t want to be bothered with anyone.”

He spoke to the chauffeur, and at once the engine began to hum.  But Eben was not to be thus defeated.  He jumped upon the running board, and thrust his head into the car, almost into Randall’s face.

“Ye’ll take me if I tell ye where yer daughter is, won’t ye?” he roared.

“Do you know?” Randall shouted.

“Y’bet I do.”

“All right, then, get in,” and Randall pushed open the door.

In a twinkling Eben was by his side, the door was slammed to, and the car was purring on its way.

“Well, where is my daughter?” Randall asked.

“I believe she’s on Island Lake.  D’ye know where that is?”

“No, I don’t.  Where in the devil is it?”

“Back in the hills.  The Hamptons have a cabin there on an island.  Their coal mine is on the shore on the other side.”

“Oh, I know.  I’ve fished in that lake, though I haven’t been there for several years.  What makes you think my daughter’s there, boy?”

“Guess it’s about the only place John ’ud take her.  He’s mighty fond of that cabin, an’ would live there all the time if he could.  Most likely Mrs. Hampton’s gone along, too.”

Randall made no reply, but sat lost in thought.  Eben enjoyed the drive.  It was no nice to roll smoothly along in the big, luxurious car.  He nestled back in the easy seat, and gave himself up to the enjoyment of the moment.  Some day he would have a car of his own just like this, with a chauffeur to look after it.

“You must be happy, Mister,” he at length remarked.

“Happy!” Randall roused from his reverie with a start, and straightened himself up with a jerk.  “What makes you think I’m happy?”

“‘Cause you’ve plenty of money, an’ own a car like this.”

Randall laughed outright, although there was no mirth in his laughter.

“And so you think money makes a man happy, eh?’”

“It should.  Why, ye kin buy what ye like.”

“Look here, boy,” and Randall’s voice became more gentle than Eben had ever heard it.  “Money won’t buy happiness.  It will provide one with many things, I acknowledge.  But it won’t buy the great things of life, and that is where it fails a man in his time of need.  Do you think I am happy?”

“No, I guess yer not, sir, from what I’ve seen of ye.”

“You’re right, boy, you’re right.  I’m not happy, and I have money.  But, there, why am I talking this way to you?”

“Mebbe, I know,” Eben replied.  “Yer thinkin’ of yer daughter, an’ what she’s done.  Isn’t that it?”

“It is.  How can a man be happy when his only daughter has run away from home?”

“An’ why did she run away, sir?”

“Why?  Why?” Randall paused, and stared straight before him.