"Oh, where are we going? What will become of us?" she murmured,
still obliged to cling with both hands to the jumping, rocking reach.

The mules could gallop no longer. Fred yelled at them "Yea-a! Yea-a!"
at the top of his voice. They began to pay some attention--or
else were so winded that they would have halted of their own
volition. And as the cart ceased its thumping and rumbling a light
suddenly blazed up before them, shining through the dusk, and higher
up the hill.

"What is that? A house?" cried Ruth, seizing Fred by the shoulder.

Not more than half an hour ago the girl from the Red Mill had
slipped out of the private car at the Emoryville Crossing, in pursuit
of the runaway youth; now they were deep in the wilderness and
surrounded by such dangers as Ruth had never dreamed of before.

The baying of a hound and the angry barking of another dog was
Ruth's only answer. She turned to see Fred Hatfield sliding down off
the cart.

"You sha'n't leave me!" cried Ruth, jumping down after him and
seizing the runaway desperately. "You sha'n't abandon me in this
forest, away from everybody. You're a cruel, bad boy, Fred Hatfield;
but you've just _got_ to be decent to me."

"What did you interfere for, anyway?" he demanded, snarling like a
cross dog. "Lemme go!"

But if Ruth was afraid of what terrors the forest might hold, and of