e of Zara.

So, although she might have been able to travel faster by the road,
Bessie stayed above, and hurried along, making the best progress she
could, although the going was rough. She could see, without being seen.
If anyone who threatened her liberty came along, she could hide easily
enough behind a tree or a clump of bushes.

At the crossroad she hesitated. She wasn't sure that Farmer Weeks had
turned off. He might very well, as she had thought at first, have been
on his way to Zebulon.

"What a stupid I am!" she thought in a moment, however. "Of course I
ought to take the crossroad! If he's gone to Zebulon Wanaka will find
him, and if he hasn't, he must have gone this way. If I turn off here,
there'll be someone after him, no matter which way he's gone."

So, still keeping to the side of the road, she followed the pointer on
the signboard which said, "Hedgeville, six miles."

About a mile and a half from the crossroads the road Bessie was now
following crossed a railroad, and as she neared that spot she moved as
carefully as she could, for a suspicion that gave her a ray of hope was
rising in her mind. At the railroad crossing there was a little
settlement and an inn that was very popular with automobilists. And
Bessie thought it was possible that Farmer Weeks might have stopped
there. Miser as he was, he was fond of good food, and, since he was his
own cook most of the time when he was at home, he didn't get much of it
except when he was away, as he was now. Bessie had heard Maw Hoover
sneer at him more than once for the way he hinted for an invitation to
dinner or supper.

"Old skinflint!" Bessie had heard Maw say. "I notice he has a way of
forgettin' anythin' he wants to tell Paw till jest before meal time.
Then he comes over post haste, and nothin'll do but Paw's got to stand
out there listenin' to him, when all he wants, really, is to have me
ring the bell, so's Paw'll have to ask him to stay."

Even in her sorrow at Zara's plight, Bessie couldn't help laughing at
the remembrance of those times. But then the smoke of the inn came in
sight, and Bessie forgot everything but the need of caution. If Farmer
Weeks were there, he must on no account see her. That would end any
chance she had of helping Zara.

She crept through a grove of trees that surrounded the inn, to work up
behind it. In the rear, as she knew, were the stables, and the place
where the automobiles of the guests were kept. She wanted t