“Look out--she’s got the bits in her teeth!” he shouted. “She’s bolted!”
There came a scream, a sharp report, and a grinding crash--then silence.
From away off in the dim distance Phineas heard a voice.
“Phineas! Phineas!”
Something snapped, and he seemed to be floating up, up, up, out of the black oblivion of nothingness. He tried to speak, but he knew that he made no sound.
“Phineas! Phineas!”
The voice was nearer now, so near that it seemed just above him. It sounded like--With a mighty effort he opened his eyes; then full consciousness came. He was on the ground, his head in Diantha’s lap. Diantha, bonnet crushed, neck-bow askew, and coat torn, was bending over him, calling him frantically by name. Ten feet away the wrecked automobile, tip-tilted against a large maple tree, completed the picture.
With a groan Phineas closed his eyes and turned away his head.
“She’s all stove up--an’ now you won’t ever say yes,” he moaned. “You wanted ter ride on an’ on furever!”