“Yes, please get in quickly, and let us start. Then we can talk!” said Ruth, casting an anxious glance toward the other car.
His hand went out to the door to open it, the wonder still shining in his face, when a low murmur like a growl went up behind him.
Ruth looked up, and there in the full glare of the lights stood two burly civilians and a big soldier:
“Oh, I say!” drawled the soldier in no very pleasant tone, “you’re not going to desert us that way! Not after Pass came out of his way for us! I didn’t think you had a yellow streak!”
Cameron paused and a troubled look came into his face. He glanced at the empty back seat with a repression of his disappointment in the necessity.
“There’s another fellow here that has to get back at the same time I do,” he said looking at Ruth hesitatingly.
“Certainly. Ask him, of course.” Ruth’s voice was hearty and put the whole car at his disposal.
“There’s room for you, too, Chalmers,” he said with relief. “And Passmore will be glad to get rid of us I suspect. He’ll be able to get home soon. There isn’t much the matter with that engine. If you do what I told you to that carburetor you’ll find it will go all right. Come on, Chalmers. We ought to hurry!”
“No thanks! I stick to my friends!” said the soldier shortly.
“As you please!” said Cameron stepping on the running board.