to take out the trees they're
after and then leave Freckles to run and tell? They are going to murder
the boy; that's what they are going to do. You run, and run for life!
For Freckles' life! You can ride back with the Bird Woman."

The Angel saw Mrs. Duncan started; then began her race.

Those awful miles of corduroy! Would they never end? She did not dare
use the wheel too roughly, for if it broke she never could arrive on
time afoot. Where her way was impassable for the wheel, she jumped off,
and pushing it beside her or carrying it, she ran as fast as she could.
The day was fearfully warm. The sun poured with the fierce baking heat
of August. The bushes claimed her hat, and she did not stop for it.

Where it was at all possible, the Angel mounted and pounded over the
corduroy again. She was panting for breath and almost worn out when she
reached the level pike. She had no idea how long she had been--and only
two miles covered. She leaned over the bars, almost standing on the
pedals, racing with all the strength in her body. The blood surged in
her ears while her head swam, but she kept a straight course, and rode
and rode. It seemed to her that she was standing still, while the trees
and houses were racing past her.

Once a farmer's big dog rushed angrily into the road and she swerved
until she almost fell, but she regained her balance, and setting her
muscles, pedaled as fast as she could. At last she lifted her head.
Surely it could not be over a mile more. She had covered two of corduroy
and at least three of gravel, and it was only six in all.

She was reeling in the saddle, but she gripped the bars with new energy,
and raced desperately. The sun beat on her bare head and hands. Just
when she was choking with dust, and almost prostrate with heat and
exhaustion--crash, she ran into a broken bottle. Snap! went the tire;
the wheel swerved and pitched over. The Angel rolled into the thick
yellow dust of the road and lay quietly.

From afar, Duncan began to notice a strange, dust-covered object in the
road, as he headed toward town with the first load of the day's felling.

He chirruped to the bays and hurried them all he could. As he neared the
Angel, he saw it was a woman and a broken wheel. He was beside her in an
instant. He carried her to a shaded fence-corner, stretched her on
the grass, and wiped the dust from the lovely face all dirt-streaked,
crimson, and bearing a startling whiteness around the mouth