n."

Grace sat beside him. Their progress was slow and rough over the
country roads, but when they reached the State road Howe threw open the
throttle. He drove well. The liquor was in his blood. He took chances
and got away with them, laughing at the girl's gasps of dismay.

"Wait until I get beyond Simkinsville," he said, "and I'll let her out.
You're going to travel tonight, honey."

The girl sat beside him with her eyes fixed ahead. He had been drinking,
and the warmth of the liquor was in his voice. She was determined on one
thing. She was going to make him live up to the letter of his promise to
go away at the house door; and more and more she realized that it would
be difficult. His mood was reckless, masterful. Instead of laughing when
she drew back from a proffered caress, he turned surly. Obstinate lines
that she remembered appeared from his nostrils to the corners of his
mouth. She was uneasy.

Finally she hit on a plan to make him stop somewhere in her neighborhood
and let her get out of the car. She would not come back after that.

There was another car going toward the city. Now it passed them, and as
often they passed it. It became a contest of wits. Palmer's car lost on
the hills, but gained on the long level stretches, which gleamed with a
coating of thin ice.

"I wish you'd let them get ahead, Palmer. It's silly and it's reckless."

"I told you we'd travel to-night."

He turned a little glance at her. What the deuce was the matter with
women, anyhow? Were none of them cheerful any more? Here was Grace as
sober as Christine. He felt outraged, defrauded.

His light car skidded and struck the big car heavily. On a smooth road
perhaps nothing more serious than broken mudguards would have been the
result. But on the ice the small car slewed around and slid over the
edge of the bank. At the bottom of the declivity it turned over.

Grace was flung clear of the wreckage. Howe freed himself and stood
erect, with one arm hanging at his side. There was no sound at all from
the boy under the tonneau.

The big car had stopped. Down the bank plunged a heavy, gorilla-like
figure, long arms pushing aside the frozen branches of trees. When he
reached the car, O'Hara found Grace sitting unhurt on the ground. In the
wreck of the car the lamps had not been extinguished, and by their light
he made out Howe, swaying dizzily.

"Anybody underneath?"

"The chauffeur. He's dead, I think. He doesn't answer."

Th