"What's the matter?" Helena asked him from the car.
"I don't know," Thornton answered lightly. "I haven't found out yet—but don't you worry, it's nothing serious. I'll have it in a jiffy."
Helena's knowledge of motor cars and engine trouble was not extensive—she was conversant only with the "fool's mate" of motoring.
"Maybe there's no gasoline," she suggested helpfully.
"Nonsense!" returned Thornton, with a laugh. "I told Babson to see that the tank was full before he brought the car around—he wouldn't forget a thing like that."
Thornton, nevertheless, tested the gasoline tank.
"Well?" inquired Helena, breaking the silence that followed.
"There is no—gasoline," said Thornton heavily.
Neither spoke for a moment. There was no sound but the steady drip from the leaves. Then Helena forced a laugh.
"Isn't it ridiculous!" she said. "That is what one is always making fun of others for. I—I don't think it's going to stop raining—do you? And we're miles and miles from anywhere. What do people do when they're caught like this?"