quite pretty,
he decided, an opinion in which Ed coincided.

"Look here!" cried Jack, purposely rough. He had found that tone advisable
to take with Cora sometimes. "Look here, we are going on to Hayden
anyhow, so you might as well ride with us as walk. I know my sister, Cora
Kimball--perhaps you know her----?"

"I don't believe I do," she answered.

"Well, no matter--anyhow, she'd never forgive me--nor Ed either, if we
left you like this. And I know Ed would fuss more about Cora not forgiving
him than I would. So you've just got to ride," and he smiled frankly.

"But I thought you said you were going to Fairport," spoke the girl.

"We are," answered Jack. "But I'm not going to chase back all those
fifteen miles we came by mistake. It would take too long, especially
after dark. So if we can't take a short cut over from Hayden, we'll stay
there all night, and go on in the morning. I can telephone my sister.
I suppose there are 'phones in Hayden."

"Oh, yes, it--it's quite a town--a small city, I believe," said the girl.
"I inquired about it at the last stop I made, and they told me of the
association where I could stay."

"Then come on!" invited Jack. "I'll crank up, and you can ride with us."

"You're sure it won't be any trouble?"

"Not a bit--it will be a pleasure to have you. But perhaps we ought
to look for a nearer telephone, and send word to your friends," Jack
suggested.

"No--no," she spoke rapidly. "I haven't any--I mean they won't worry about
me. I am used to looking after myself."

Truly she seemed so, and now she appeared even more self-reliant as she
stood there in the glare of the lamps of the auto. Her face had lost
some of the traces of hopeless despair, and she had somehow managed to
get rid of the evidences of the tears. The boys wondered how she did it,
for it was rather like a magician's trick, "done in full view of the
audience." Jack and Ed paid a mental tribute to her accomplishment in
using a handkerchief.

"Are you sure you are comfortable there?" the girl asked Ed, as he
crouched partly on the floor of the car, with his feet on the run-board.

"Quite," he affirmed, not altogether truthfully, but at least gallantly.

"It seems so selfish of me, that really----"

"Say, Ed's all right!" cried Jack, gaily. "He'd rather ride on the
run-board than anywhere else; wouldn't you, old man?"

"Sure!"

"In fact, he often sits there when there's a vacant seat. It's a hobby
of his. I've t