Carroll Watson Rankin

“ What's the alternative?”
“A night in the wood, I'm afraid,” returned Carter gravely. “I could leave you——”
“To be frightened to death,” cried Ruth, clutching his wet sleeve nervously, “while you are miles away, hunting for a farm house? I think not. If I'm going to stay here, you're going to stay, too. It may clear up. How far do you suppose we are from Callander?”
“That's what troubles me most,” confessed Carter, patting Ruth's clinging hands reassuringly. ”

“ Drake, and three hours in a motor-car with Mr. Carter aren't likely to stir up Mrs. Grundy when she doesn't know either of us from Adam.”
“I'll be round in two jiffies,” smiled Carter, turning to depart. “You see it's a quarter past four now, and it's a trip that's best taken by daylight. It won't take me long to get the thing ready.”
“I really don't like the idea of your going so far alone with him, Ruth,” said conventional Mrs. Layton. “We know nothing about the man.” ”

“ We're to have bacon, coffee, and biscuits. I never travel without a well-filled kit, but this is the first time I've had occasion to use it.”
The coffee properly boiled, and the bacon fried, the castaways, as they dubbed themselves merrily, crawled under the shelter Carter had made, to eat, by the light of the replenished fire, an exceedingly satisfying meal. ”

“ It's all my own fault: I should have gone last Saturday, but it was so lovely here, and that wretched Captain Gregory promised so faithfully-oh, it's too bad!”
“I think,” said Carter, with his usual, almost exasperatingly deliberate manner, “that I can see a way out of the difficulty.”
“Oh, can you?” breathed the girl excitedly. “Are there horses? Is there a boat I can hire?”
“No, but I'm going to Callander this evening in my motor.”
“Your what? Did I hear you say motor?” The girl eyed Carter incredulously. “Your motor?” ”