What a haul!

"If you will permit me to offer you the use of my car," he said, "I will gladly take you to Sovgrad. My aides will remain with your chauffeur and see that he gets in safely after he has made the necessary repairs.

Alexander and Nicholas bit their lips and scowled. The affrontery of the man! Nicholas looked at Alexander. What were they to do? They had given their promises to respect the exchange which their prince had made with the highwayman, and to treat the latter as their lord and master until the true Boris claimed his rightful position. Alexander shrugged, and bowed in acquiescence. The Rider held open the door of the royal car, and assisted the two ladies to enter. Then he followed them.

"Good evening, my friends!" he called through the window to the two officers as the car started once more upon its interrupted journey.

As the car bowled along the road The Rider thought rapidly. It never would do to enter Sovgrad in the royal car, nor could he hope to hold his precious prizes within the boundaries of the capitol city. Picking up the speaking tube he signalled the driver.

"To the hunting lodge," he said; "but stop first at Peter's Inn." And then to Mrs. Bass: "It is a long way to Sovgrad-we will stop for a moment at my hunting lodge for refreshments."

Mrs. Abner J. Bass, quite overcome by this close communion with royalty would have agreed to anything.

"How thoughtful of your highness," she murmured.

In the dim light The Rider could see that the younger of his victims was extremely beautiful. To her he addressed most of his remarks. He told her of the attempt to marry him to the Margothian princess, and during the narration an inspiration came to the unscrupulous scoundrel, which almost caused him to laugh aloud.

"You see," he said, "I must marry at once, someone whom I could love, or I shall be forced to marry this hideous woman. Of course if I marry another I cannot marry the princess."

"It would seem that it should be easy to find many desirable princesses who would be honored by such an alliance," suggested Mrs. Bass.

"But she need not be a princess," The Rider hastened to assure her. "In fact I should much prefer marrying one who is not a princess," and he looked directly and pointedly at Miss Gwendolyn Bass.

Mrs. Abner J. Bass gasped and almost choked. For once in her life she was at a loss as to what to say. A real Prince-a crown prince! and he had as much as said that he would like to marry Gwendolyn. `Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess Gwendolyn!' My! how wonderful it sounded! And later, Queen Gwendolyn! Mrs. Bass was thankful that she had chosen a really distinguished name for her daughter.

Miss Bass, who had seen quite all she desired to of the royal features, shrank far back into her corner of the car, a little shiver of horror playing up and down her spine. What had become of Hemmy? She was sure that she had caught a glimpse of him in Bucharest, and that her mother had seen him there, for immediately Mrs. Bass had altered her plans and turned back toward the west. She needed him now, if ever she had needed anyone, for she was not so blind but that she could read all too plainly the trend of the thoughts of the man at her side, and she knew her mother quite well enough to be sure that that ambitious lady would jump at the chance to become the mother-in-law of a prince of the blood-royal. But Hemmy might have been dead and buried, thought the girl, for all the good he could do her now. She hadn't the faintest idea as to where she might reach him.

The man at her side had been talking earnestly with her mother, now he had turned and was speaking to her. At first she only half comprehended the words which fell so easily from his lips and which, although she had been expecting them sooner or later, came now with all the effect of an unlooked for nervous shock.

"Your mother approves," he was saying, "and I hope, Miss Bass, that you will approve. It would be a very advantageous marriage." He neglected to specify to whose advantage it would redound.