"You wouldn't dare! You wouldn't dare!"
"Dare? Huh! Don't make the driver laugh!"
"I'll get help!"
"Yep. Sure. Fact, there's a car comin' toward us. 'Bout a mile away I'd
make it, wouldn't you? Well, dollface, if you make one peep--over the
bank you go, both of you dead as a couplin'-pin. Smeared all over those
rocks. Get me? And me--I'll be sorry the regrettable accident was so
naughty and went and happened--and I just got off in time meself. And
I'll pinch papa's poke while I'm helping get out the bodies!"
Till now she hadn't believed it. But she dared not glance at the
approaching car. It was their interesting guest who steered the Gomez
past the other; and he ran rather too near the edge of the road ... so
that she looked over, down.
Beaming, he went on, "I'd pull the rough stuff right here, instead of
wastin' my time as a cap'n of industry by taking you up to see the
scenery in that daisy little gully off the road; but the whole world can
see us along here--the hicks in the valley and anybody that happens to
sneak along in a car behind us. Shame the way this road curves--see too
far along it. Fact, you're giving me a lot of trouble. But you'll give
me a kiss, won't you, Gwendolyn?"
He bent down, chuckling. She could feel his bristly chin touch her
cheek. She sprang up, struck at him. He raised his hand from the wheel.
For a second the car ran without control. He jabbed her back into the
seat with his elbow. "Don't try any more monkey-shines, if you know
what's good for you," he said, quite peacefully, as he resumed steering.
She was in a haze, conscious only of her father's hand fondling hers.
She heard a quick pit-pit-pit-pit behind them. Car going to pass? She'd
have to let it go by. She'd concentrate on finding something she
could---Then, "Hello, folks. Having a picnic? Who's your little friend in the
rompers?" sang out a voice beside them. It was Milt Daggett--the Milt
who must be scores of miles ahead. His bug had caught up with them, was
running even with them on the broad road.