“I wish we were home,” she remarked after the flashlight had been turned off, making the darkness seem blacker than before.
“We can pick up a bus along this road, I think,” returned Mary Louise reassuringly. “They ought to run along here about every half hour.”
“Shall we use some of this money for carfare?”
“No, we don’t have to. I have my purse with me.”
Choosing their way carefully through the bushes and undergrowth, the two girls proceeded slowly towards the road. But their adventures in the wood were not over. They heard another rustle of twigs in front of them, and footsteps. Human footsteps, this time!
“Hands up!” snarled a gruff voice.
The reactions of the two girls and the dog were instantaneous—and utterly different. Jane clutched her chum’s arm in terror; Mary Louise flashed her light upon the man—a rough, uncouth character, without even a mask—and Silky flew at his legs. The dog’s bite was quick and sharp: the bully cried out in pain. Mary Louise chuckled and, pulling Jane by the hand, dashed out to the road, towards the lights of the gas station in the distance. As the girls retreated, they could hear groans and swearing from their tormentor.
When they slowed down across the road from the gas station, Mary Louise looked around and whistled for Silky. Jane, noticing that she still clutched the empty bag in her hand, hurled it as far as she could in the direction from which they had come.
In another moment the brave little dog came bounding to them. Mary Louise stooped over and picked him up in her arms.
“You wonderful Silky!” she cried, as she led the way across the road. “You saved our lives!”