“Well,” said Miss Sallie, after a moment’s reflection, “it is very dangerous and very venturesome; but, having got thus far, let us proceed on our way.” She folded her hands resignedly, like a martyred saint.
“Then off we go!” cried Ruth. The automobile rolled into the wooded road that penetrated a deeper part of the forest.
The dense shade was a relief after the open, dusty country. Tall trees interlaced their branches overhead and the ground was carpeted with fern and bracken.
But an uneasiness had come upon the automobilists. They did not attempt to explain it, for there was no apparent cause. The road was excellent so far, smooth and level; but something was in the air. Miss Sallie was the first to break the silence.
“I am terribly frightened,” she admitted, in a low voice. “We must have been bewitched to have attempted this ride. Ruth, my dear, I beg of you to turn and go back. I feel that we are running into danger.”
Ruth slowed up the machine a little, and called over her shoulder:
“You are right, Aunt Sallie, but I am afraid we can’t turn just yet, because there isn’t room. Anyway, we may be nearer to the other end of the wood by this time.”
The car sped on again, only to stop with such a sudden jerk, in the very depths of the forest, that the machinery ceased to whir and in a moment was silent.
For a few moments all hands sat perfectly still, dumb with terror and amazement.
Across the road was stretched another rope. There was no sign board on it to tell them there was danger ahead, but the girls needed none. They felt that there was danger ahead, behind, and all around them. They knew they were in a trap, and that the danger that threatened them would make itself known all too soon.