miles at least in either direction from the main road, and as many more
probably after that from any farmhouse--he remembered that for half an
hour before they had turned into the "short cut" they had seen no sign
of habitation--and what lay in the other direction, ahead, would in all
probability be the same--they were up in the timber regions, in the
heart of them--she couldn't walk miles in the rain with the roads in a
vile condition, and growing viler every minute as the rain sank in and
the mud grew deeper. And then another thought--a thought that came now,
sharp and quick, engulfing the mere discomfort of a miserable night
spent there in the woods--the clatter of busy, gossiping tongues seemed
already to be dinning their abominable noises in his ears. And that he,
that he--yes, it seemed to sweep upon him in a sudden, overmastering
surge, the realization that the delight and joy of her companionship
through the month that was gone was love that leaped now into fierce,
jealous flame, maddened at a breath that would smirch her in the eyes of
others--that _he_ should be the cause of it! "What _do_ people do when
they're caught like this?"--in their innocence there seemed an
unfathomed depth of irony in her words, but as he unconsciously repeated
them they cleared his brain and brought him suddenly to face the
immediate practical problem that confronted them. What was to be done?

"Shall--shall I get out?" she called to him, a hint of reminder in her
tones that she had spoken to him before and received no answer.

Thornton moved back to the side of the car.

"Miss Vail," he said contritely, "I--I don't know what to say to you for
getting you into this. I--"

"I know," she interrupted quickly, leaning over the side of the car and