The Scarlet Car | Page 6

which they found themselves, it
would be due to him. To herself she argued that if the chauffeur were
driving, her feeling would be the same, that it was the nerve, the skill,
and the coolness, not the man, that moved her admiration. But in her
heart she knew it would not be the same.
At West Haven Green Winthrop turned out of the track of the racing
monsters into a quiet street leading to the railroad station, and with a
half-sigh, half-laugh, leaned back comfortably.
"Those lights coming up suddenly make it hard to see," he said.
"Hard to breathe," snorted Sam; "since that first car missed us, I haven't
drawn an honest breath. I held on so tight that I squeezed the hair out of
the cushions."
When they reached the railroad station, and Sam had finally fought his
way to the station master, that half-crazed official informed him he had
missed the departure of Mrs. Taylor Holbrooke's car by just ten
minutes.
Brother Sam reported this state of affairs to his companions.
"God knows we asked for the fish first," he said; "so now we've done
our duty by Ernest, who has shamefully deserted us, and we can get
something to eat, and go home at our leisure. As I have always told you,
the only way to travel independently is in a touring-car."
At the New Haven House they bought three waiters, body and soul, and,
in spite of the fact that in the very next room the team was breaking
training, obtained an excellent but chaotic dinner; and by eight they
were on their way back to the big city.
The night was grandly beautiful. The waters of the Sound flashed in the
light of a cold, clear moon, which showed them, like pictures in silver

print, the sleeping villages through which they passed, the ancient elms,
the low-roofed cottages, the town hall facing the common. The post
road was again empty, and the car moved as steadily as a watch.
"Just because it knows we don't care now when we get there," said
Brother Sam, "you couldn't make it break down with an axe."
From the rear, where he sat with Fred, he announced he was going to
sleep, and asked that he be not awakened until the car had crossed the
State line between Connecticut and New York. Winthrop doubted if he
knew the State line of New York.
"It is where the advertisements for Besse Baker's twenty-seven stores
cease," said Sam drowsily, "and the billposters of Ethel Barrymore
begin."
In the front of the car the two young people spoke only at intervals, but
Winthrop had never been so widely alert, so keenly happy, never before
so conscious of her presence.
And it seemed as they glided through the mysterious moonlit world of
silent villages, shadowy woods, and wind-swept bays and inlets, from
which, as the car rattled over the planks of the bridges, the wild duck
rose in noisy circles, they alone were awake and living.
The silence had lasted so long that it was as eloquent as words. The
young man turned his eyes timorously, and sought those of the girl.
What he felt was so strong in him that it seemed incredible she should
be ignorant of it. His eyes searched the gray veil. In his voice there was
both challenge and pleading.
"`Shall be together,'" he quoted, "`breathe and ride. So, one day more
am I deified; who knows but the world may end to-night?'"
The moonlight showed the girl's eyes shining through the veil, and
regarding him steadily.
"If you don't stop this car quick," she said, "the world WILL end for all
of us."
He shot a look ahead, and so suddenly threw on the brake that Sam and
the chauffeur tumbled awake. Across the road stretched the great bulk
of a touring-car, its lamps burning dully in the brilliance of the moon.
Around it, for greater warmth, a half-dozen figures stamped upon the
frozen ground, and beat themselves with their arms. Sam and the
chauffeur vaulted into the road, and went toward them.
"It's what you say, and the way you say it," the girl explained. She

seemed to be continuing an argument. "It makes it so very difficult for
us to play together."
The young man clasped the wheel as though the force he were holding
in check were much greater than sixty horse-power.
"You are not married yet, are you?" he demanded.
The girl moved her head.
"And when you are married, there will probably be an altar from which
you will turn to walk back up the aisle?"
"Well?" said the girl.
"Well," he answered explosively, "until you turn away from that altar, I
do not recognize the right of any man to keep