"But I've decided to go with Carter!" cried Annette, hysterically. "Turn b-back, Sandy! I've changed my mind."
"Change it again," advised Sandy as he laid the whip gently across the horse's back.
Carter Nelson flung furiously off to catch the train for town, while the would-be bride shed bitter tears on the shoulder of the would-be suicide.
The snow fell faster and faster, and the gray day deepened to dusk. For a long time they drove along in silence, both busy with their own thoughts.
Suddenly they were lurched violently forward as the horse shied at something in the bushes. Sandy leaned forward in time to see a figure on all fours plunging back into the shrubbery.
"Annette," he whispered excitedly, "did you see that man's face?"
"Yes," she said, clinging to his arm; "don't leave me, Sandy!"
"What did he look like? Tell me, quick!"
"He had little eyes like shoe-buttons, and his teeth stuck out. Do you suppose he was hiding?"
"It was Ricks Wilson, or I am a blind man!" cried Sandy, standing up in the buggy and straining his eyes in the darkness.