Flash after flash of lightning slashed through the blackness. Cara, as the olden time bride, and Babs as the collegian, holding between them the frightened Indian girl, Ruth—as if an Indian girl ever would be frightened of a thunderstorm—clung more closely to one another in real fear. Suddenly Babs jerked aside from the others. The car was scarcely moving along a narrow turn and she clutched Cara’s arm excitedly.
“I see a light in those bushes!” she exclaimed. “Look! Over there by that white birch tree!”
The headlights of the big car threw out such a glare that it was easy enough to distinguish objects along the way. Dudley slowed his car down as Babs cried out.
“Yes, that’s somethin’. Mebby some ’un’ hurt,” the captain suggested.
“Hey! Hey!” came a shrill call. “Over here, by the ditch!”
“That’s a boy,” declared Dudley promptly.
“Yes, and it sounds like our boy,” added Babs, already on the car step ready to go in search of who ever was calling.
“You mean——”
“I mean Nicky. Hey! That you Nicky!” She called out loudly, for thunder claps still continued to roar through the night with terrifying frequency.
“Ye-ah!” came the answer. “That’s me! I’m—I’m stuck!”