Its lanterns were dark and cold, but he knew the road.
CHAPTER II
THE FLYERS CATCH THE FLYER
No one would have recognised either of them had it been possible to
see them,--so carefully were their heads swathed in their coverings.
She was veiled and he was goggled, and both of them scrooged down in
the seat apprehensively. Hardy's car, borrowed in reality for the
occasion, was performing nobly. It careened through the muddy streets
of the village with a sturdiness that augured well for the enterprise.
Out into the country road, scudding northward, it sped. Dauntless
increased the speed, not to the limit, on account of the fog and
uncertainty of the road, but enough to add new thrills to the girl who
crouched beside him. Neither spoke until they were far from the town
line; the strain was too intense.
"What will everybody say?" she finally cried in his ear--the most
natural question in the world. "And the newspapers? Oh, dear!"
"You're not weakening, are you?" he cried. "Shall I turn back?"
She was silent for half a mile.
"No," she replied at last, "I couldn't climb UP that ladder. And
besides--" with a gasp as the car shot over the railroad tracks,--"we
never could get as good a start as this again.
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