auffeur the order. Orme welcomed this evidence that she had got home
safely.

Bessie jumped lightly into the tonneau, and Orme followed. The car glided
from the grounds. Eastward it went, through the pleasant, rolling farming
country, that was wrapped in the beauty of the starry night. They crossed
a bridge over a narrow creek.

"You would hardly think," said Bessie, "that this is so-called North
Branch of the Chicago River."

"I would believe anything about that river," he replied.

She laughed nervously. He knew that she was suppressing her natural
interest in the scene she had witnessed on the veranda; yet, of course,
she was expecting some explanation.

"Bessie," he said, "I am sorry to have got into such a muss there at the
club. The Japanese minister was the last man I wanted to see."

She did not answer.

"Perhaps your friend--whom we are now going to visit--will explain things
a little," he went on. "I can tell you only that I had in my pocket
certain papers which the Jap would have given much to get hold of. He
tried it by accusing me of stealing them from him. It was very awkward."

"I understand better than you think," she said, suddenly. "Don't you see,
you big stupid, that I know where we are going? That tells me something.
I can put two and two together."

"Then I needn't try to do any more explaining of things I can't explain."

"Of course not. You are forgiven all. Just think, Bob, it's nearly a year
since you stood up with Tom and me."

"That's so!"

"How time does go! See"--as the car turned at a crossing--"we are going
northward. We are bound for the village of Winnetka. Does that tell you
anything?"

"Nothing at all," said Orme, striving vainly to give the Indian name a
place in his mind.

On they sped. Orme looked at his watch. It was half-past ten.

"We must be nearly there," he said.

"Yes, it's only a little way, now."

They were going eastward again, following a narrow dirt road. Suddenly
the chauffeur threw the brakes on hard. Orme and Bessie, thrown forward
by the sudden stopping, clutched the sides of the car. There was a crash,
and they found themselves in the bottom of the tonneau.

Orme was unharmed. "Are you all right, Bessie? he asked.

"All right." Her voice was cheery.

He leaped to the road. The chauffeur had descended and was hurrying to
the front of the car.

"What was it?" asked Orme.

"Someone pushed a wheelbarrow into the road just as we were coming."