Mr. Leffington Feels Inspired 



the lash of his whip, he felt suddenly compelled 

 to throw himself quickly to one side in order to 

 avoid two iron shod heels that shot unpleasantly 

 near his head. Mr. Leffington always said that 

 the Nut-Cracker had a keener sense of humor than 

 any horse he had ever owned and infinitely more 

 human than the second man. So after the Nut- 

 Cracker had had his little joke, passed through a 

 series of unlisted gaits, and finally settled down to 

 his usual long swinging trot, Mr. Leffington better 

 able then to sit in the cart without holding on by 

 both hands, had an opportunity to light his pipe 

 and to think. As a matter of fact the former was a 

 much easier and more usual pastime than the 

 latter, although his friends often said that when 

 Richard Leffington did really choose to concen- 

 trate and use his mind for anything but killing 

 foxes, he could cause more trouble in five minutes 

 than any other man in the state. 



What weighed most on Mr. Leffington's mind 

 this Sunday morning on his way to the station, 

 a mile or two down the macadam pike, was the 

 unwelcome recollection that he had advised John 

 Rexford to take the ten o'clock train, which was 

 the same he was now on his way to meet. He had 

 little fear that Gwen and John would meet on the 

 train as probably John would sit in the smoker 

 reading the Sunday comic sheets, his feet on the 

 103 



