Part 12 (1/2)

CHAPTER VIII

THE GIRL

Jack and Ed, standing near the machine, under the sign post, peered at the advancing figure of the girl. She had stopped short--stopped rather timidly, it seemed, and she now stood there silent, apparently waiting for the boys to say something.

”It's a girl, sure enough,” said Ed, in a low voice. ”Out alone, too.”

Jack, who never hesitated long at doing anything, resolved to at once plunge into the midst of this new problem.

”Excuse me,” he said, taking off his cap, and he knew she could see him, for they were all in the glare of the auto's lamps now, ”excuse me, but can you tell us if there is any shorter way to get to Fairport than by going back? We are lost, it seems.”

”So--so am I!” faltered the girl.

”What?” exclaimed Ed.

”That is--well, I'm not exactly lost,” and Jack could see her smile faintly. Yet behind the smile there seemed to be sorrow, and it was evident, even in the difficult light of the gas lamps, that she had been crying.

”You're lost--but not exactly lost,” remarked Ed, with a laugh.

”That's--er--rather odd; isn't it?” He was anxious to put the girl at her ease. Clearly a strange young girl--and pretty, too, as the boys could see--would need to be put at her ease when alone, after dark, on a country road.

”I--I guess it is,” she admitted, and Jack made a mental note that he liked her voice. Quite discriminating in regard to voices Jack was getting--at least in his own estimation.

”Then you can't help us much, I'm afraid,” went on Ed. ”If you're a stranger around here----”

”Oh, yes, I'm a stranger--quite a stranger. I don't know a soul!”

She said it so quickly--bringing out the words so promptly after Ed's suggestion, that it almost seemed as though she had caught at a straw thrown in her way by a chance wind. Why did she want to make it appear that she was a stranger? And that she did want to give that impression--rightly or wrongly--was very evident to both young men.

”Then we are both--I mean all three--lost,” spoke Jack, good-naturedly. ”I guess there's no help for it, Ed. We'll have to go back the way we came until we strike the road to Fairport.”

”I suppose so. But it will bring us in pretty late.”

”No help for it. What is to be--has to be. Cora will worry--she has that habit lately.”

”Naturally. Well, maybe we can get to a telephone somewhere, and let them know.”

”You could do that!” exclaimed the girl, impulsively. ”I know what it is to worry. I saw a telephone not more than a mile back. I mean,” she explained with a smile, ”I saw a place where there was a telephone pay station sign. It was in a little country store, where I stopped to--to----”

She hesitated and her voice faltered.

”Look here!” exclaimed Jack. ”Perhaps we can help _you_! Are you going anywhere that we can give you a lift? We're bound to be late anyhow, and a little more time won't matter. You see my sister and some friends--other girls and boys--are out on a trip. We are going to Sandy Point Cove, and are taking it easy on the way. My machine developed tire trouble a while ago--quite a while it is now,” he said ruefully, ”and the others went on. I thought I could get up to them, but I took the wrong road and--well, here we are. Now if we can give you a ride, why, we'll be glad to. Ed can sit on the run-board, and you----”

”Oh, I couldn't trouble you!” the girl exclaimed. ”I--I am going----”

She stopped rather abruptly and Jack and Ed each confessed to the other, later, that they were mortally afraid she was going to cry.

”And if she had,” said Jack, ”I'd have been up in the air for fair!”

”Same here!” admitted Ed.