fifteen miles. Towns, it seemed, were rather far apart in this
section of the country.

"Well, let's see the road map. How far is it to the next one?"

"Search me. They didn't have any road maps back there. Darned
hick burg."

Foster studied awhile. "Well, let's see if we can push her off
the middle of the road--and then I guess we'll have to let you
walk back and get help. Eh, Mert? There's nothing else we can
do--"

"What yuh going to tell 'em?" Mert demanded suspiciously.

Bud permitted a surprised glance to slant back at Mert. "Why,
whatever you fellows fake up for me to tell," he said naively. "I
know the truth ain't popular on this trip, so get together and
dope out something. And hand me over my suit case, will yuh? I
want some dry socks to put on when I get there."

Foster very obligingly tilted the suit case over into the front
seat. After that he and Mert, as by a common thought impelled,
climbed out and went over to a bushy live oak to confer in
privacy. Mert carried the leather bag with him.

By the time they had finished and were coming back, Bud had
gone through his belongings and had taken out a few letters that
might prove awkward if found there later, two pairs of socks and
his razor and toothbrush. He was folding the socks to stow away