“I always drive on the right side o’ the box,” came the sulky retort.

“Undoubtedly; but you’re driving on the left side this afternoon,” returned Benson, with a look of significance.  “By the way, did I mention the fact, yet, that I have an uncertain and bad temper?  Now, climb up into your place, and don’t you attempt to start until I’m beside you and give the word!”

A moment later Jack Benson sat beside the driver, holding the revolver in his right hand.

“Now, back to the house,” spoke the young naval officer.

Without a word the driver turned his horses about, heading back.

“Here we are!” came, cheerily, from Lieutenant Abercrombie, R.N.

Millard was sitting up, a black scowl on his face as Jack and the others appeared.

“Now, I’ve got to get this outfit back into Washington, somehow,” mused Jack, after noticing that Abercrombie had allowed the other thug to crawl away to safety.

“Why, of course, dear old fellow, you under stand that I’m helping,” hinted the British officer.

“That’s mighty good of you,” murmured Jack.  “Then we can do it easily.”

Daisy Huston had stepped from the cab.  She stood regarding the scowling captive.

“I’m glad I know you, Donald; glad I found you out in time,” she said, quietly, gazing hard at him.

“I thought you a friend,” Millard retorted, bitterly.  “Great Heavens, Daisy, if you had been on my side through thick and thin, in good report and ill, I could have defied all these idiots in Washington.  What an ally you would have been!  But you chose to be an enemy.”

“An enemy to my country’s enemies, yes,” replied the girl, steadily.

“Do you hate me, Daisy?”

“I don’t know,” the girl answered, thoughtfully.  “Do you hate me, now, Donald Graves?”

“I wish I knew,” uttered the man.  “But it’s hard to turn love like mine into hate at a moment’s notice.  Daisy, the nights are coming when you’ll wake up with a frightened start, and sob as you remember how you turned me over to—­”

“To the officers of the country that you have done your best to betray,” broke in the girl, firmly.  “No, no, Donald!  Do not imagine that I shall shed any tears for you, seen or unseen.  Mr. Benson, I am ready, if you wish to place—­your—­your—­prisoner in the cab beside me.”

“It seems like a beastly outrage to do it,” muttered Jack, full of misgivings.

“Not at all,” declared the girl, steadily.  “I am glad to see this man on his way to the bar of justice.”

Jack assisted Daisy Huston, with the utmost deference, to a seat inside the vehicle.  Then he turned to motion to handcuffed Millard—­or Graves—­that he was to take the seat beside the woman he had hoped to make his wife.

“I’ll ride close alongside, to make sure there’s no unpleasant conduct toward Miss Huston,” volunteered Mr. Abercrombie.