“But I leave here on a train that starts west at the same time hers starts east. Those trains pass each other about half-way. Both are through expresses and neither makes any regular stop between Mercerville and Perryville.”
“I am following you.” Once the plan involved action, the Hon. Alexander Hamilton Burrow became interested.
“I have got, quite secretly of course, an order from the train-despatcher’s office. In pursuance, my train stops at Jaffa Junction, which it reaches at ten o’clock to-night. Her train also stops at Jaffa Junction, forty minutes later. We both disembark. When aunty goes to the Mercerville station there will be no Mary there!”
“Almost you had persuaded me,” said Mr. Burrow sadly, “but if any additional shred of evidence were necessary to establish the lunacy of this enterprise, it is the selection of Jaffa Junction as an objective point for elopement. Were you ever in Jaffa Junction? A tank, a post-office and a streak of mud!”
“It may lack certain advantages,” defended Mr. Copewell, “but it is a strategic position. You don’t seem to grasp the strenuousness of this undertaking—or the peril. Mary is sent across the ocean on twenty-four hours’ notice. She is put on the train at Perryville by her family. The train does not, so it is presumed, stop till it reaches here. Here a grim relentless aunt catches her on the fly and keeps her bouncing! Good Heavens, man, the only chance I have is train-robbery in between—and Jaffa Junction is gloriously in between!”
“What part do I play in this praiseworthy enterprise? Do you want my police to lock aunty up, so that she can’t telephone to mama?”
“Worse than that. When we drop off that train at Jaffa Junction, unless we have some way to beat it quick, our last predicament will be worse than our first. We will need an automobile and a trustworthy chauffeur. He can also be best man, and officiate at swearing to things when we get the license. You and your six-cylinder car have been elected.”
“Are you quite sure,” inquired Mr. Burrow in a chastened voice, “that you don’t overestimate my merits?”
“I am willing to give you a try,” was the generous response. “It would be nice and considerate if we could get it all finished up in time to wire aunty that we are perfectly well married before she grows hysterical about Mary. Mary is very fond of her family and would appreciate a little attention like that.”
“And have you considered the time it takes to drive one hundred and twenty miles over those infernal, hog-backed roads?” queried Mr. Burrow with suspicious politeness.