They were darkening with thought, troubled, sincere, yet audacious. And it seemed that before them, all in a flash, he fell crashing to the first headlong love of his life. After that nothing was clear. The sweet face floated before him, hazily, the face of a dream. He spoke, trying to tell her he would be glad to take her home. Then—proudest moment he had ever known—she was holding his arm, walking beside him out of the door, across the porch, with her beautiful head erect, looking up at him, seeing none of the gaping bystanders, gliding so coolly and disdainfully past Wess and his comrades, oblivious of the crestfallen Hatfield—down the steps and out to the car.

There Cal became again possessed of some semblance of rationality. But how he thrilled! How bells rang in his ears!

“May I ride in front beside you?” she asked, as if that was what she most wanted to do of all things in the world. She looked it. She spoke sweetly, audibly to the listeners on the porch. But she apparently did not know of their existence. She did not hear the shuffling of their boots as they began to stir forward.

“Sure can,” replied Cal, trying to catch his breath. “I’ll pack your bags in back.”

At this juncture Tuck Merry loomed up, carrying his canvas bag. His cadaverous face did not betray that he and Cal had met, though deep in his eyes gleamed a twinkle of fun and zest over the situation.

“Buddy, would you give a fellow a lift along the road?” he inquired.

“Sure. Pile in with your pack,” replied Cal, heartily. Right then and there he wanted to hug this lanky newfound friend.

Merry and his pack and the girl’s numerous pieces of baggage comfortably filled the after section of the Ford. Then Cal cranked the engine. It started with a strange sound, entirely foreign to him. Was it only the confusion of his brain? Anyway, it started. Cal climbed in beside the girl, tremendously aware of her presence, of her perfect self-possession and poise, of the smile that enveloped him. His hands shook a little. Then when he tried to drive off he was dumbfounded to see that the car would not budge an inch. The engine had stopped.

CHAPTER

4

CAL sat there at the wheel, suddenly realizing that what he had anticipated had begun to happen. He swore under his breath, and for an instant he hated the curious crowd lined up on the porch. This feeling, however, was only a flash. No matter what happened, Georgiana May Stockwell was with him. That would be balm for much more injury he might suffer.

“You stalled the engine,” she said, brightly.

“Stalled? Well, that’s a new one on me,” he replied. Then in lower tone he added: “Your sister told you Wess an’ his gang had put up a job on me, didn’t she?”

“Yes. That’s one reason why I was so ashamed.”

“I’ve got a hunch they’ve fooled with the engine when I left the car at the garage,” whispered Cal. “It’s sure comin’ to me. An’ it’s hardly fair to ask you to stick by me.