The stranger leaped down from his motor car and began to examine the “Comet” with a practiced eye.
“Perhaps I can fix her up,” he said; “and if not, I’ll tow you to the next village. You’d find it fairly uncomfortable sleeping out here.”
With an electric lantern to guide him, he gave a quick professional examination of the “Comet’s” interior. Then he burst out laughing.
“I suppose you never noticed that your gasoline tank was empty?” he asked.
There was a moment of intense silence and Billie was glad it had grown too dark for him to see her crimson countenance.
“I’m afraid it’s my fault,” she apologized, “or rather it’s the fault of the people at the last garage. They said they had filled the tank full. I suppose they fibbed, and I have such a trusting nature I never thought to look and see. I am a poor chauffeur.”
“You are a very remarkable young woman to be a chauffeur at all,” answered the stranger, while he filled the tank from his emergency can. “Now, I imagine that will fix you and you can follow on to the next town. It’s just about ten miles, I think.”
They were in the midst of thanking him profusely, when he interrupted them.
“You’ve been traveling this road for some days, I suppose? You haven’t by chance seen some people who had a little boy in tow? They might possibly look like Gypsies.”
He had turned to Miss Campbell when he asked this question.