Part 36 (1/2)

Oh, how easy!”

Whereupon he proceeded to kick the unoffending breakfast, cigarettes and all, out of the car door. To their dying day they were to believe that the food had been put there by agents of the great conspirator. It readily may be surmised that neither of them was given to sensible deductions during their astounding flight. If they had thought twice, they might have seen the folly of their quick conclusions. Marlanx's men would not have sent Loraine off in a manner like this. But the distracted pair were not in an a.n.a.lytical frame of mind just then; that is why the gentle munificence of Sir Vagabond came to a barren waste.

Mile after mile flew by. The unwilling travellers, depressed beyond description, had given up all hope of leaving the car until it reached the point intended by the wily plotters. To their amazement, however, the speed began to slacken perceptibly after they had left the city ten or twelve miles behind. Truxton was leaning against the side of the door, gloomily surveying the bright, green landscape. For some time Loraine had been steadying herself by clinging to his arm. They had cast off the unsightly rain coats and other clumsy articles. Once, through sheer inability to control his impulses, he had placed his arm about her slim waist, but she had gently freed herself. Her look of reproach was sufficient to check all future impulses of a like nature.

”h.e.l.lo!” said he, coming out of his bitter dream.

”We're slowing up.” He looked out and ahead. ”No station is in sight.

There's a bridge down the road a bit--yes, there's our same old river.

By George!” His face was a study.

”What is it?” she cried, struck by his sudden energy of speech.

”They're running slow for the bridge. Afraid of the floods. D'ye see? If they creep up to it as they do in the United States when they're cautious, we'll politely drop off and--'Pon my soul, she's coming down to a snail's pace. We can swing off, Loraine. Now's our chance!”

The train was barely creeping up to the bridge. He clasped her in the strong crook of his left arm, slid down to a sitting position, and boldly pushed himself clear of the car, landing on his feet. Staggering forward with the impetus he had received, he would have fallen except for a mighty effort. A sharp groan escaped his lips as he lowered her to the ground. She looked anxiously into his face and saw nothing there but relief.

The cars rumbled across the bridge, picked up speed beyond, and thundered off in the distance with never so much as a thought of the two who stood beside the track and laughed hysterically.

”Come along,” said the man briefly. ”We must try to reach that station back there. There I can telegraph in. Oh!” His first attempt to walk brought out a groan of pain.

He had turned his ankle in the leap to the ground. She was deeply concerned, but he sought to laugh it off. Gritting his teeth determinedly, he led the way back along the track.

”Lean on me,” she cried despairingly.

”Nonsense,” he said with grim stubbornness. ”I don't mind the pain. We can't stop for a sprained ankle. It's an old one I got playing football.

We may have to go a little slow, but we'll not stop, my dear--not till we get word to Dangloss!”

She found a long, heavy stick for him; thereafter he hobbled with greater speed and less pain. At a wagon-road crossing they paused to rest, having covered two miles. The strain was telling on him; perspiration stood out in great drops upon his brow; he was beginning to despair. Her little cry of joy caused him to look up from the swollen ankle which he was regarding with dubious concern. An oxcart was approaching from the west.

”A ride!” she cried joyously. She had been ready to drop with fatigue; her knees were shaking. His first exclamation of joy died away in a groan of dismay. He laughed bitterly.

”That thing couldn't get us anywhere in a week,” he said.

”But it will help,” she cried brightly, an optimist by force of necessity.

They stopped the cart and bargained for a ride to Ronn. The man was a farmer, slow and suspicious. He haggled.

”The country's full of evil men and women these days,” he demurred.

”Besides I have a heavy enough load as it is for my poor beasts.”

Miss Tullis conducted the negotiations, making the best of her year's acquaintance with the language of the country.

”Don't tell him why we are in such a hurry,” cautioned King. ”He may be a Marlanx sympathiser.”

”You have nothing in your cart but melons,” she said to the farmer, peeping under the corner of the canvas covering.

”I am not going through Ronn, but by the high road to Edelweiss,” he protested. ”A good ten kilometers.”

”But carry us until we come up with some one who can give us horses.”