“But I’ve got to be back at eight, I told you! How many times must I say it?”
“Oh, hang eight o’clock! I didn’t guarantee to get you back regardless of accident! They ought to have sense enough to know that some things might happen that couldn’t be helped.”
“Perhaps they would if so many girls didn’t use that accident excuse until it’s thin and threadbare. Besides, I’m not quite convinced, Gordon, that this is an accident. I fail to understand why your car should stop so suddenly away off here in this lonely wood. Everything appeared to be working excellently until we left the highway.” Her lips grew hard. “I think you’d better start hunting that telephone, Gordon. And I’ll go along and call mother in Springfield. It’s plain we’re not going to return by eight o’clock or anywhere near it.”
“Well, you wait here till I go around the next turn. I’ll see if I sight a house. If I do, I’ll call you.” But the girl did not miss the dull angry flush on Gordon’s face at reference to Mrs. Theddon.
The fellow stumbled off down the sandy road. Madelaine waited. To run after him would have been asinine. He was gone a disquieting time. The girl drew her sweater-coat about her shoulders as the last daylight faded and the stars grew brighter. It was ghastly quiet. Somewhere off across the valley a dog barked. She heard the faint tinkle of a cow bell. From down among the frowsy woodland ferns at her right came a faint trickling of water. A mosquito sang close to her ear. The dew was heavy. It gathered in huge drops on the leather seat and the thick, brass-framed windshield.
Madelaine heard her cousin’s returning footsteps in the sand before she discerned his figure. Then he stopped to light a cigarette.
“It was a devil of a ways, Madge, and I’m sorry I had to leave you. But I got ’em! A tool car will come out in an hour.”
“An hour! You found a telephone?”
“A devil of a ways down the valley—yes. I had to cut through a pasture and swamp. There’s nothing to do now but wait.”
“Gordon! I——”