ell, you're goin', Ma," declared Rufus, perceiving that Geraldine
would as yet refuse to go alone with him, and considering that as
ballast in the tonneau his mother's presence would be innocuous. "This
little girl's got the reins. You and me are passengers. Don't forget
that."

So later in the fresh, lovely spring day, Mrs. Carder, wrapped in an
antiquated shawl and with a bonnet that had to be rescued from an unused
shelf, was tucked into the back seat of the car.

Rufus held open the front door for Geraldine, and though she hesitated
she decided not to anger him and stepped in to sit beside him. He did
all the talking that was done, the girl replying in monosyllables and
looking straight before her.

"I thought I'd stop to the village," he said, "and wire into town to
have some help sent out. How would you word it?"

"I came as help," replied Geraldine. "I think we get along with the work
pretty well. Pete is very handy for a boy. Your mother seems to dread
servants. Don't send for anybody on my account."

The girl's voice was colorless, and she did not look at Rufus who
regarded her uncertainly.

"All right," he said at last. "Perhaps it would be as well to wait till
some day we're in town and you can talk to 'em. I'll wire for some eats
anyway."

When they reached the village the car stopped before the
telegraph-office. Carder left the car, and at the mere temporary relief
of him Geraldine's heart lightened. A wild wish swept through her that
she knew how to drive and could put on all the power and drive away,
even kidnapping the shrunken, beshawled slave in the tonneau.

But the thought of the dusty knight intervened. If she were going to
betray her father, let it be under his guidance whatever that might be.
She could not do it, though. She could not!

A man loafing on the walk saw Mrs. Carder and, stopping, addressed her
with some country greeting. Geraldine instantly turned to him.

"Where is Keefe?" she asked quickly.

"What?" he returned stupidly, with a curious gaze at her lovely, eager
face.

"Keefe. The village of Keefe. Where is it?"

"Oh, that's yonder," said the man, pointing. "T'other side o' the
mountain."

She turned to Mrs. Carder. "I have a friend who lives there, a very good
friend whom I would like to see."

She made the explanation lest the old woman should tell her son of her
eager question.

Rufus came out, nodded curtly to the man beside his machine, jumped in,
and drove