He raised the hood and inspected the engine. During his attempts to start it, she sat nonchalantly humming an air and gazing at the mountains as if her mind were a thousand miles away––which it was not.
“Something wrong; it will have to be hauled in,” said he finally.
No reply. Steele returned to his own car and descending into the creek bed worked his way around her. When he was on the far bank, he rejoined her again, carrying a coil of rope. One end of this he fastened securely to the rear axle of her runabout.
“What are you going to do, sir?” she demanded, whirling about on her seat and glaring angrily.
“Drag you out.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind!”
“Oh, yes,” was his calm response.
“Against my wishes, sir?”
“Certainly.”
“This is abominable!”