“The rocks must have fallen during the night,” the man went on. “I was trying to steer clear of one boulder when I hit the other. The tire blew. I guess we were lucky at that.”
A baby’s wail startled the group. “Is that a baby crying?”
The man pointed to a piece of flat ground partially hidden by scrub and trees. “My wife’s over there. The little feller hasn’t stopped yelling for an hour.”
Mrs. Lurie started toward the clearing, followed by the teachers and Judy.
“Can we be of any help?” Mrs. Lurie timidly inquired.
The young woman looked up, a radiant smile transfiguring her thin face. She was sitting on a rug untidily surrounded by cans, pots, and zippered bags.
“Awfully nice of you folks to stop,” she said, talking over the head of the screaming child. “I was beginning to think ours was the only car on this terrible road. Your driver going to help my Jim?”
“Of course,” Judy said quickly. “He’s getting the tools out of the trunk right now.”
“What a beautiful baby!” cooed Miss Simms.
“Beautiful,” echoed Miss Clark.