Harkless leaned forward.

"Can you make it a little faster, Tom?" he said.

They dashed up to the station amid the cries of people flying to the walls
for safety; the two gentlemen leaped from the cart, bore down upon the
ticket-office, stormed at the agent, and ran madly at the gates,
flourishing their passports. The official on duty eyed them wearily, and
barred the way.

"Been gone two minutes," he remarked, with a peaceable yawn.

Harkless stamped his foot on the cement flags; then he stood stock still,
gazing at the empty tracks; but Meredith turned to him, smiling.

"Won't it keep?" he asked.

"Yes, it will keep," John answered. "Part of it may have to keep till
election day, but some of it I will settle before night. And that," he
cried, between his teeth, "and that is the part of it in regard to young
Mr. Fisbee!"

"Oh, it's about H. Fisbee, is it?"

"Yes, it's H. Fisbee."

"Well, we might as well go up and see what the doctor thinks of you;
there's no train."

"I don't want to see a doctor again, ever--as long as I live. I'm as well