The man on horseback rode closer.
"What's the matter with you fellows, anyhow?" began the reporter. "Woerts ought to know that I'm going to write a story about this, whether I get in or not. Say! I'll give you five dollars to change clothes with me and let me ride up to that stable—I won't steal the horse or the house, either."
"It's agin' orders to let anybody inside here," answered the sentry, with a drawl—"until the day," he added.
"Well, look here," went on the reporter, "tell me something. Has she had a run yet?"
"I won't tell you nothing," the man replied, "and there's nobody ye can see. Me and the Professor's the only folks on the premises. So go on away."
"You're a polite gentleman; I like you," said the reporter, kissing his hand. "Say! I'm going back and write up a story about you all being crazy. The whole thing's a fake; that's my opinion."
At this the man on the horse woke up. "Fake, eh?" he said. "All you fellows will be let in at the right time. No, sir, it's a success. You should have seen last night—"
"Should've seen what?" asked the reporter, putting his hand in his pocket for his note-book.
"Nothing," the man answered. "Keep the other side of the fence!" He touched his horse with the whip and rode away.