"What can that have been?" asked Elaine, starting to get out of the car. "What caused it?"
"I don't know," I returned, taking her arm firmly. "But enough has happened to-day. If it was intended for us, we'd better not stop. Some one might take a shot at us. Come. We have the car. We can get out before any one does anything more. Let's do it. Things are going on about us of which we know nothing. The safest thing is to get away."
Elaine looked at the bridge in ruins and shuddered. It was the closest we could have been to death and have escaped. Then she turned to the wheel quickly and the little car fairly jumped ahead.
"Oh, if Craig were only here," she murmured. "He would know what to do."
As we disappeared over the crest of the next hill, safe, the old farmer and his dog looked hard at us.
The silence after the explosion was ominous.
He glanced about. No one was pursuing him. That seemed ominous, too. But if they did pursue he was prepared to elude them. They must never recognize the old farmer.
As he turned, he deliberately pulled off his beard, then plunged again into the woods and was lost.