your size and figure," the sheriff had said.

The figure swayed and then moved a few steps forward. Blinded by
the lights, she bent her head and shielded her eyes with her hand
the better to glimpse the occupant of the car.

"Are you looking for me?" she cried out shrilly, at the same time
spreading her arms as if in surrender. It was almost a wail.

Mrs. Wrandall caught her breath. Her heart began to beat once more.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she cried out, without knowing
what she said.

The girl started. She had not expected to hear the voice of a woman.
She staggered to the side of the road, out of the line of light.

"I--I beg your pardon," she cried,--it was like a wail of
disappointment,--"I am sorry to have stopped you."

"Come here," commanded the other, still staring.

The unsteady figure advanced. Halting beside the car, she leaned
across the spare tires and gazed into the eyes of the driver. Their
faces were not more than a foot apart, their eyes were narrowed in
tense scrutiny.

"What do you want?" repeated Mrs. Wrandall, her voice hoarse and
tremulous.