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 panied the car down the sacred allée, bounding and yapping just under the fender.

"Tell the driver not to go so slow," Nyla said as they approached. "It looks more like a funeral than a President arriving. Oh see, Daddy, there's the new flag, the flag of the Republic. I'm so thrilled!"

"It will be a funeral, if that dog doesn't look out," said Herr Guadeloupe.

The driver, adjured to move faster, rather overdid it. He shot across the stone bridge, spun round the curved driveway, pulled up at the broad front steps with a squeal of brakes and sliding of tires on the gravel. Behind them, the dog, one of whose feet had been caught by surprise, yelled insult and reproach.

"Sit still," said Nyla hastily. "Probably there'll be a footman or somebody to open the door."

But the Executive Mansion seemed strangely deserted. The big doorway stood closed. The agitated taxi-man also remained nervously in his seat, afraid of doing something wrong.