"You saved me from being trampled to death!" cried Lydia, indignantly.
"Oh there's the auto."
There it was, indeed, with old Lizzie standing in the tonneau, wringing her hands, and Amos and Levine, dust covered and disheveled, guarding the car with clubs.
They all shouted with relief when they saw the two. Lydia by now had wiped the blood from her face.
"Billy," cried Levine, "could you run the car and the two women down the road while Amos and I help the Agent get order here? The worst seems to be over, for some reason."
"Billy got Charlie Jackson to call the Indians in," said Lydia.
"Good work!" exclaimed Amos. "Are you both all right?"
"Yes," answered Lydia. "Go on! Billy'll take care of us."
"I'll wait for you at the willows, a mile below Last Chance," said
Billy.
"Land," said Lizzie, as the car swung through the hurrying whites, to the road. "About one picnic a lifetime like this, would do me!"
Billy was an indifferent chauffeur but he reached the willows without mishap.