be afraid of him--he's half dead but he can drive a Ford," and
the voluble old lady was gone.

Polly wondered for a moment whether she most wanted to laugh or cry.
Homesickness and fatigue suggested the latter, but a wild sense of humor
poised between the decrepit Mendoza and the deaf Mrs. Morgan won the day.
Polly chuckled. Then realizing that it was nearly seven and that she had
had nothing to eat since noon, she went to the counter and bought of a
Mexican youth, evidently a helper, some crackers. They were in a box and
looked a degree cleaner than anything else. The population had wearied of
the American lady and had gone its various ways. Polly sat forlornly on a
high stool and munched her crackers until Swartz returned.

"No good," he said. "Mendoza's sick and he won't let nobody else drive de
car. You better go stay mit de old lady."

"All right," said the girl, rising. "I suppose I can leave my trunk on
your back porch?"

"Vy not? Ain't it der station? Vere should you leaf it?" replied Swartz,
hospitably.

Polly stepped out of the front door. The sand blizzard was undoubtedly on
the wane. The wind was less violent but much cooler. The sun had dropped
behind the mountains and the dusk was descending upon the little Mexican
town. A few of the houses showed a light, but more of them were dark. The
Morgan house, a very long way down the street, it seemed to the girl, was
lit and she started to go toward it. A sense of desolation, a forlornness
greater than she had ever known in all her short life descended upon her.
She swallowed quickly and increased her pace. It wasn't fear, she
reflected, it was worse than fear; it was the awful loneliness of one who
had never been really alone in her life.

"It's the first night at boarding-school multiplied by a thousand," she
sobbed softly. "Oh, why did I come to this awful place? I simply can't
stay all night with that deaf woman and those mumpy children! I----"

She jumped back in time to avoid an automobile which seemed to flash out
of nothingness at her elbow. As she stood looking after it a wild hope
came into her head that it might be Bob after all. The car stopped and a
man jumped out.

"Is it you, senorita?" he exclaimed, "alone and in the dark?"

It was Juan Pachuca. Polly sighed, disappointed to tears. She tried to
explain the situation.

"But in two hours I will have you in Athens," he begged. "Or is it that
you wish to stay with these people?"

"Of cour