“What’s your name, Miss?” asked the physician, climbing into the car as Hester touched the electric starter.
Hester told him, and the medical man nodded. “Henry Grimes’s gal, eh?” he said. “Well, he’s well able to be sponsor for this poor fellow. Drive on.”
He was a shabby old man, this country doctor. His name was Leffert, and he seemed none too blessed with this world’s goods. But he was kindly and he eased the senseless man into a comfortable position in the tonneau with the gentleness of a woman.
The car started on the long run to Centerport with a plentifully filled tank. And the engine worked nicely. When they passed the Sitz place Hester saw that the farmer and Otto were out ploughing along the edge of the woods by lantern light. But the sky above the ridge glowed like a live coal. The forest fire was sweeping on.
When they came down the hill past Robinson’s Woods the doctor nudged Hester from behind.
“Hadn’t you better take that left-hand turn, Miss?” he demanded.
“What for? This is the nearest way,” returned the girl, slowing down a bit.
“But it goes through the Four Corners. They have a habit of setting on automobiles there.”
“They won’t dare bother us,” declared Hester. “Most of those people work for father.”
“Aw—well,” said the doctor, and sat down again.