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One morning the accumulated fatigue had its way, and they overslept
scandalously. It was after ten o'clock before they were ready to drive up
the street. As they turned the corner from Kearney Street they were saluted
by the ringing of numerous bells.

"Why, it's Sunday!" cried Keith, after a moment's calculation. In the
unexpectedness of this discovery he reined in the horse.

"It will never do to work to-day," she answered his unspoken thought. "I
suppose we ought to go to church."

But Keith turned the horse's head to the left.

"Church?" he returned with great decision. "We're going on a spree. This is
a day of rest, and we've earned it."

"Where?" asked Nan, a trifle shocked at his implication as to church.

"I haven't the remotest idea," said Keith.

They drove along a plank road leading out of town. It proved to be thronged
with people, all going in the same direction. The shuffle of their feet on
the planks and the murmur of their many voices were punctuated by the
_klop, klop_ of hoofs and occasional shouts of laughter. All races of the
earth seemed to be represented. It was like a Congress of the Nations at
some great exposition. French, Germans, Italians, Russians, Dutchmen,
British, were to be recognized and to be expected. But also were strange