“We’re off our course,” called Ruth, consulting the compass. “Not much but a little. We must have strayed through being in such a rush to get home. We were going directly south when last I looked; about twenty minutes ago.”
“Let me see.” Miss Drexal halted and scrutinized their surroundings. “It’s all right,” she encouraged. “I know where we are. We shall come out of the woods about a quarter of a mile below the Heights, on the road to the village. Forward march, children. It won’t be long until we are there. We must try to escape the rain.”
“Follow your leader,” ordered Ruth cheerfully, catching Emmy’s arm as she rushed her playfully forward. Miss Drexal now ahead as guide, the two girls swung along directly behind her.
“Hurrah!” Emmy sang out joyfully. Through the trees she had glimpsed the road for which they were making.
“O-h-h!” a howl of anguish went up from the rear, causing the registrar to whirl and hasten in the direction of the sound. It proceeded from unlucky Jane, whose feet had unwarily wandered into the meshes of a fondly-clinging vine. Her wail had ascended as she descended, full force, upon her face.
Before Miss Drexal had reached her, she had regained her feet and stood sputtering angrily at the unfeeling Frances who had laughed so hard as to be unable to assist her fallen comrade.
Emmy turned and took a few steps toward Jane. Ruth was about to follow her when the purr of an automobile, dashing along the near-by road, attracted her attention. She obtained a good look at the driver, a dark, thin-faced young man, bending far over the wheel. His companions she merely glimpsed, as the machine flashed by, yet that one glimpse brought a soft “Oh” of dismay to her lips. Glancing quickly about, she was relieved to note that her friends had evidently paid no attention to the passing of the automobile. They were still busy with Jane. By the time they turned and came up with her, Jane still sputtering at the grinning Frances, who was endeavoring to lead her along, the automobile had disappeared around a curve in the road.
“Safe!” exclaimed Anne dramatically. “We are out of the woods at last.”
“Safe nothing,” disagreed Sarah. “I just felt a raindrop on my head. There’s another!” she cried as a big drop splashed upon a broad-leafed weed in front of her. “We’d better run for it.”
Her advice promptly heeded, the party set off pell-mell over the narrow strip of weed-grown ground that sloped gently down to the road. Up the road the race for shelter continued, Ruth and Frances well in the lead.