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“Whip up, Higgins, and we’ll leave him so far behind he’ll never catch us,” cried Crosby eagerly. The first drops of rain began to fall and Mrs. Delancy hurriedly crawled beneath the tarpaulin, urging him to follow at once. Another flash of lightning revealed the deputy, far back in the road waving his hands frantically.

“I’m glad his neck isn’t broken. Hurry on, Mr. Higgins; it is now more urgent than ever that you save your bacon.”

‘”Tain’t very comfortable ridin’ for Mrs. Delancy,” apologized Higgins, his horses in a lope.

“If the marshal asks you why you didn’t stop and help his deputy, just tell him that the desperado held a pistol at your head and commanded you to drive like the devil. Holy mackerel, here comes the deluge!”

An instant later he was under the tarpaulin, crouching beside his fellow fugitive. Conversation was impossible, so great was the noise of the rain-storm and the rattle of the wagon over the hard pike. He did his best to protect her from the jars and bumps incident to the leaping and jolting of the wagon, and both were filled with rejoicing when Higgins shouted “Whoa!” to the horses and brought the wild ride to an end.

“Where are we?” cried Crosby, sticking his head from beneath the tarpaulin.

“We’re in the dump-shed of the grain elevator, just across the track from the depot.”

“And the ride is over?”

“Yep. Did you get bumped much?”

“It was worse, a thousand times, than sitting on the beam,” bemoaned a sweet, tired voice, and a moment later the two refugees stood erect in the wagon, neither quite sure that legs so tired and stiff could serve as support.

“It was awful; wasn’t it?” Crosby said, stretching himself painfully.

“Are you not drenched to the skin, Mr. Higgins?” cried Mrs. Delancy anxiously. “How selfish of us not to have thought of you before!”

“Oh, that’s all right. This gum coat kept me purty dry.”

He and Crosby assisted her from the wagon, and, while the former gave his attention to the wet and shivering horses, the latter took her arm and walked up and down the dark shed with her.

“I think you are regretting the impulse that urged you into this folly,” he was saying.

“If you persist in accusing me of faintheartedness, Mr. Crosby, I’ll never speak to you again,” she said. “I cast my lot with a desperado, as the deputy insinuated, and I am sure you have not heard me bewail my fate. Isn’t it worth something to have one day and night of real adventure? My gown must be a sight, and I know my hair is just dreadful, but my heart is gayer and brighter to-night than it has been in years.”

“And you don’t regret anything that has happened?” he asked, pressing her arm ever so slightly.

“My only regret is that you heard what the deputy said about me. You don’t believe I am like that, do you?” There was sweet womanly concern in her voice.

“I wish it were light enough to see your face,” he answered, his lips close to her ear. “I know you are blushing, and you must be more beautiful–Oh, no, of course I don’t think you are at all as he painted you,” he concluded, suddenly checking himself and answering the plaintive question he had almost ignored.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said lightly, but he failed not to observe the tinge of confusion in the laugh that followed.

“If you’ll watch the team, Mr. Crosby,” the voice of Higgins broke in at this timely juncture, “I’ll run acrost to the depot an’ ast about the train.”

“Much obliged, old man; much obliged,” returned Crosby affably. “Are you afraid to be alone in the dark?” he asked, as Higgins rushed out into the rain. The storm had abated by this time and there was but the faintest suggestion of distant thunder and lightning, the after-fall of rain being little more than a drizzle.