Cora turned to look back over the dusty road. Her face, usually alive to every mood, was strangely set—as if too anxious to venture a change of expression. Duncan from the front seat saw her look.
"Oh, he is not coming," he said. "No need to worry now. We are across the State line."
"I never was so frightened in my life," admitted Cora. "Not that I was afraid of going to court, but I was mortally afraid we would not be able to make the run in time. I should have known better, however, for Tom had qualified before to-day."
"Tom knows just how fast this machine ought to go," added Duncan. "I don't mind Tom hearing it, either."
The chauffeur smiled in acknowledgment to the compliment. It had been a hard run, and the Chelton lawyer had only turned back at the last mile post.
"Wonder where that motor-cycle officer is now?" remarked Cora. "I mean
Constable Hanna."
"Oh, he's out having a good time on what he earned this morning," answered Duncan. "One hold-up in a day is plenty for Hanna."
"I have scarcely had a chance to speak to you, Clip," Cora began, as her nervousness vanished. "I am so glad to see you."
"Well, you have been looking whole vocabularies at me, Cora, in many and various languages," said Clip in her own inimitable way. "I have been wondering whether you had turned into a Sphynx or just Liberty."
"But, Clip, I did have a fright. Suppose I should have had to give up the run, and go to that stuffy old courtroom!"