Danny stepped back after one last hand-shake, and the Ford went chugging down the lane. With a feeling of regret not unmingled with relief that his part of the escape was accomplished, he turned to Mary Louise’s car standing empty in the shadow. He swung quickly into the driver’s seat and quite as quickly swung out again, for with a stifled “Ouch” a small tousled head appeared above the blankets and Danny and Mary Louise were face to face!
“Oh, Danny!” cried Mary Louise, when she found breath to speak to the intruder in her automobile, “Oh, Danny, I’m so glad that you’ve come to me.”
Had Danny been a disciple of accuracy he could quite easily have explained that he hadn’t the wildest idea he was coming to her. Instead, hearing the welcome in her voice, and being so unbelievably glad to see that tousled head and tear-stained face, he simply said, “Of course I came, Mary Louise,” and then he could not say another word.
He stood bare-headed there on the running board and stared and stared down at Mary Louise who was still sitting on the floor of the car and gazing up at him. Suddenly a huge drop of rain splashed full upon the upturned nose of Mary Louise. It roused her with a start and evidently filled her with a spirit of prophecy for she sagely said, “Danny, I guess it’s going to rain!”
Then Danny, too, felt the great drops beating down his collar, and with a chuckle and an, “I’ll be darned, I never noticed it,” he was swooping out the side curtains and adjusting them to their hooks.
Mary Louise insisted on helping. It was very nice to have her, though of course it delayed matters, and they were both pretty thoroughly soaked before they finally climbed back into the car. It was dry and snug in there at least.
Outside, the storm was now lashing and howling with a fury that was terrific. It was an impossibility to start the car until the wind and rain abated, so Danny switched on the little light and turned once again to Mary Louise.
Then, strange to relate, they were both tongue-tied. Mary Louise became miserably conscious that her hair was in wild disarray, and Danny became blissfully conscious that the wild disarray of Mary Louise’s hair was very lovely. It is difficult to say how long the silence would have lasted had not her hand touched the long, official envelope upon the seat beside her. Then Mary Louise remembered she was playing postman.
“Your Uncle Jim asked me to give you this, Danny,” she said, placing the bulky letter on his knee.
Danny turned to her in wonder and almost in awe. “Mary Louise, you know about me? You know about Uncle Jim, and still you speak to me?”