The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 67: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

GETTING AWAY FROM THOMPSON. — there was no duplicate in the toolbox? Would there be a telephone within even half a day’s walk of the wild spot where they might stop? Well indeed was it that they had cast conventionality to the winds, lugged the awful Hapworthy pair with them and pur- sued their way! Better would it have been if Mr. Farnham had had a little practice at night driving before undertaking the task, for the headlights seemed to distort even the smallest objects, causing him to lunge over here and then over there, by way of avoid- ing obstacles no larger than an onion! Somewhere in this neighborhood, Mr. Farnham felt sure, was the little clearing they had occupied last night; and when they came to that he would steer in, breathe a devout prayer of thankfulness for their safe arrival and then— “Look out!” Mr. Hapworthy shouted into his ear. “Huh?” snorted Mr. Farnham. “Oh, Wilbur! Look out! He turned out to the left!’’ Jane screamed, almost as a single word." Roused from the formulation of his prem- ature prayer, Mr. Farnham cast his wild eyes on the illuminated stretch and caught his breath. It was a farm wagon of some sort and it was not fifty feet ahead even now and oc- cupying most of the road. The time had come for a lightning stop! Mr. Farnham essayed it by dragging fu- riously at his emergency brake—which somebody had thoughtlessly removed—and pounding simultaneously on his clutch-pedal and foot-brake. Curiously enough, both these useful bits of mechanism had been spirited away, too, but he struck the ac- celerator pedal squarely. With the forward bound of a charging lion, Jane’s beautiful six hurtled fairly at the center of a wide board wagon-back. And a crash, as of a falling skyscraper, rent the calm night! And then, since their top was down and there was nothing to hinder, Jane’s lazy little joggers started on a trip to the moon! Out in the starry reaches, as he rose, Mr. Farnham glanced at the dusky shape that was his lovely hostess, and found her sailing even more swiftly than himself. His dazed hand reached toward her—and the stars vanished and the ground rushed up at him. A thud, mercifully soft and sliding, pre- ceded his own personal thud by perhaps the 249 thousandth part of a second; and there were other thuds in the neighborhood and the sound of galloping hoofs. Then Mr. Farnham sat up and fumbled at the metal thing he clutched so energetically. It chanced to be their little gasoline stove, forgotten that morning, and he knew that, even again, they were in the homelike little clearing. CHAPTER XIII. NARROWING DOWN. HE first word to leave Mr. Farnham’s lips, as full consciousness rushed back upon him, was: “Jane!” ‘“‘l’m—here!”’ the owner of the name said faintly. “Are you hurt?” “T think not—I’m sure I’m not,” said the dear, familiar voice. ‘‘But the others— oh, the others!” Almost beside her a sharp laugh sounded. “Tf you mean me, except that half my skin has been torn off, I am quite all right!” Mrs. James Hapworthy said breathlessly. ‘James, I presume, is over there?” No answer came from out the stilly night. “Why, where is Happy?” Mr. Farnham cried anxiously. “I can’t see anything, but I don’t feel him anywhere around here.” Far to the left, then, there was a scraping and a groaning, as a reluctant human form dragged itself to a sitting posture. “T am—here!”’ announced a thin and sub- dued voice from which every trace of jaunti- ness had departed. “Hurt?” Farnham asked, scrambling to his feet and shaking the lurking mists from his brain. ‘“No bones are broken, if that’s what you mean,’ the faint tone answered. ‘There is not a square inch of me that isn’t bruised. I—I struck on one side, then bounced to the other.” Aided by strong hands, Jane had risen now and Mrs. Hapworthy was standing be- side her, breathing heavily. Farnham voiced the shaping thought in four heads as he cried: “Well, that’s the luckiest automobile ac- cident on record! Not one of us was even knocked senseless.” From the depths of the gloom toward the road new sounds of stirring issued. There came a loud growl and a snarl; and then: ECORMMICLOO® S (C@