Wallacetown, "Land of mercy! It's Sylvia an' Thomas!"

Thomas cowered. No other word could express it. But Sylvia got out,
slamming the door behind her.

"We've been to Wallacetown to a moving-picture show," she said with a
dignity which she was very far from feeling, "and we've been unfortunate
in having tire-trouble on the way home. And now we seem to be stuck in
the mud. I had no idea the roads were in such a condition, or of course I
shouldn't have gone. We can't possibly pry the motor up in this darkness,
so I think we may as well leave it where it is, first as last until
morning, and walk the rest of the way home. Come on, Thomas."

"I wouldn't ha' b'lieved," said Mrs. Elliott severely, "that you would
ha' done such a thing. Prayer-meetin' night, too! Well, it's fortunate no
one seen you but me an' Joe. If I was gossipy, like some, it would be all
over town in no time, but you know I never open my lips. But, land sakes!
here comes a _team_. Who can this be?"

Eagerly she peered out through the darkness. Then she turned again to the
unfortunate pair.

"It's Austin in the carryall," she cried excitedly; "now, ain't that a
piece of luck? You won't have to walk home, after all. Though what _he's_
out for, either, at this hour--"

Austin reined in his horse. "Because I knew Sylvia and Thomas must have
got into some difficulty," he said quietly. Considering the pitch at
which it had been uttered, it had not been hard to overhear Mrs.
Elliott's speech. "Pretty bad travelling, wasn't it? I'm sorry. Tires,