. They shone through the windows of a
small farmhouse a few rods back from the road. A short avenue of poplars
led to the door.

In response to Orme's knock, the man of the house appeared--a German with
sleepy eyes and tousled yellow hair.

"There is an injured man down the road a way," said Orme. "Motor-car
smash."

"So?"

"His leg is broken, I think. I made him as comfortable as I could. Can
you get a doctor? The man will rest quiet till a doctor comes. He can't
be moved very well."

"_Ein_ doctor? _Ja. Es ist_ one _bei_ Niles Center. _Mein_ son vill go
for him. Too bad! Too bad! Come in."

"No, thank you," said Orme carelessly.

"Vas you in _der_ accident?"

"Do I look it?" Orme laughed.

"_Nein_, you do not look it. _Ach!_ Dese autymobles! Dey makes much
harm."

"It _is_ too bad," admitted Orme.

"He vas a millionaire, maybe. Dey comes by here so fast, going to
Arradale. Hans! _Komm Hier! Ein_ man is gesmashed. _Du_ must for _der_
doctor go." He turned back to Orme. "_Mein_ son, he will go."

But Orme had no ears for what the sympathetic German said. One word had
made his heart leap.

"Arradale!"

There he was to have dined with Tom and Bessie Wallingham! He had
forgotten them utterly. Were they still at the golf club? Possibly, and,
in any event, if he could reach the club, he would be near a railroad.

"How far is Arradale?" he asked.

"_Halb_-miles. _Und_ vere did you say _der_ hurt man vas?"

"A few hundred feet back there." Orme indicated the direction. "Can I
reach Arradale by this road?"

"Next turn--_rechts_. I will take de man some _schnapps_."

"That will be good. His friends will make it right with you."

"_Ach!_ Do not say so!"

The German shook his head in deprecation of the idea that he wished any
return for his services. Meantime his long-legged, towheaded son had come
from within and stood gaping behind his father.

"Vill you go back to _der_ man _mit_ me?" asked the German.

"No," said Orme.

"So? Vell, all right."

"I'm sorry I can't wait," said Orme. "I've done what I could, and I have
a long way to go."

"Sure! Dat's all right!"

"Then thank you very much. Good-night."

Orme walked briskly to the road and turned west. He felt assured that
Arima would be looked after.

Following the road to the first crossing, he turned to the right. In a
few minutes he saw the lights of the clubhouse, and a little later he
stepped upon the veranda.

Many people were seat