ar on, recklessly, her heart thumping with more than
the thrill of the chase. "They're the men who tried to kill you,
aren't they?" she rejoined. The speed at which they were going did not
permit her to look about; she had to keep her eyes on the road at that
moment when she knew within herself and was telling the man beside her
that she from that moment must be at one with him. For already she had
said it; as she risked herself in the pursuit, she thought of the men
they were after not chiefly as those who had killed her cousin but as
those who had threatened Eaton. "What do I care what happens to me, if
we catch them?" she cried.

"Harriet!" he repeated her name again.

"Philip!"

She felt him shrink and change as she called the name. It had been
clear to her, of course, that, since she had known him, the name he had
been using was not his own. Often she had wondered what his name was;
now she had to know. "What should I call you?" she demanded of him.

"My name," he said, "is Hugh."

"Hugh!" she called it.

"Yes."

"Hugh--" She waited for the rest; but he told no more. "Hugh!" she
whispered to herself again his name now. "Hugh!"

Her eyes, which had watched the road for the guiding of the car, had
followed his gesture from time to time pointing out the tracks made by
the machine they were pursuing. These tracks still ran on ahead; as
she gazed down the road, a red glow beyond the bare trees was lighting
the sky. A glance at Hugh told that he also had seen it.

"A fire?" she referred to him.

"Looks like it."

They said no more as they rushed on; but the red glow was spreading,
and yellow flames soon were in sight shooting higher and higher; these
were clouded off for an instant only to appear flaring higher again,
and the breeze brought the smell of seasoned wood burning.

"It's right across the road!" Hugh announced as they neared it.

"It's the bridge over the next ravine," Harriet said. Her foot already
was bearing upon the brake, and the power was shut off; the car coasted
on slowly. For both could see now that the wooden span was blazing
from end to end; it was old wood, swift to burn and going like tinder.
There was no possible chance for the car to cross it. The girl brought
the machine to a stop fifty feet from the edge of the ravine; the fire
was so hot that the gasoline tank would not be safe nearer. She gazed
down at the tire-marks on the road.

"They crossed with their ma