of some discreet way in which to express what was on
my mind.

"It will take some time," I finally said, "and in the meanwhile you had
better--you had better--"

"Oh, I'm going to," she laughed, and before I could look up she was on
her way to the sunny side of the embankment on the further approach of
the culvert. Ten minutes later I turned and saw her a few paces away
silently watching me, and the same glance revealed a pair of dainty
shoes on the top rail of the old bridge, and I presume that in some
place was a pair of stockings so disposed as to give Sol's rays a fair
chance to do their most effective work.

"I think I can fix it inside of an hour," I said.

"That will be splendid!" she exclaimed.

The sun was blistering hot and I worked like a Trojan, but again was it
my fate to disappoint her. The working parts were clogged with sand and
mud, and I had underestimated the magnitude of my task. I know now that
our best course would have been to abandon the machine and to walk to
Pine Top, but perhaps what happened was just as well.

It was 5:45 before the machine gave its first sure signs of returning
consciousness. Miss Harding gave a glad cry and a quarter of an hour
later when the red monster stood coughing in the muddy roadway those dry
shoes were where they belonged.

With light hearts we waved farewell to the kindly old culvert and set
our pace toward Woodvale. It was our plan to take the first crossroad
leading from the path of the tornado, and if possible make our way to
Oak Cliff. We passed a small hut which nestled in the shelter of the
rocks. In our mad rush I had not noticed it, but it seemed vacant.

A little farther on the road turns sharply to the right and re-enters
the forest. As we came to the top of a knoll I looked ahead and saw at a
glance that we were again nearing the path of the tornado. But I went on
until the trunks of the stricken trees brought us to a halt.

"We are trapped, Miss Harding," I said, after an examination which
proved that even foot travel was well-nigh impossible. "We are in the
segment of a circle closed at its ends by fallen trees, and the worst of
it is this: there remains to us positively no outlet to the road."

It was an exasperating situation. We decided to return to the hut in the
hope that its occupant--if it had one--might be able to show us a trail
through the woods to the west. As we came near the hut we saw smoke
coming from its stove-pipe chimney. I