"Well, I know I shall be run over by an engine sometime," said she, as Margaret uttered an exclamation of thankfulness. "I don't expect anything else. I don't know why I come to New York, for I never expect to get out alive. But this is not your carriage, Margaret. This is a public hack."
"I know it, Cousin Sarah," answered Margaret. "Our horses had to go to the blacksmith's this morning. Just get in, and give the coachman your check, and he will bring your trunk."
"But do you think it will be safe to give my checks to a hackman?" asked Cousin Sarah, in a loud whisper. "Don't you think he may run away with the things?"
"And leave us in possession of his carriage and horses? Hardly, I think," answered Margaret, smiling. "I don't think there is any danger, Sarah."
"Oh, but I assure you, I have heard of such things being done." Then, after she had seen the trunk safely placed on the carriage: "Oh, I was so frightened in the car. There was a man on the opposite seat, who looked exactly as if he was drunk; and he spoke to me."
"Indeed! What did he say?"
"He said, 'Would you like to see the morning paper, ma'am?'"
"There was no great harm in that. What made you think he was drunk?"
"Oh, his face was red; and he kept laughing while he was reading the paper."
"Perhaps there was something funny in it," Percy ventured to remark.