She threw herself on the ground; she kicked her heels; she tore at her loosely caught, tarnished blonde hair.

Claire knelt by her. "You mustn't--you mustn't--we'll----"

"d.a.m.n you, with your smug-faced husband there, and your fine auto and all, b.u.t.ting into poor folks' troubles!" shrieked Dlorus.

Claire stumbled to her feet, stood with her clenched right hand to her trembling lips, cupping it with her nervous left hand. Her shoulders were dejected. Milt pleaded, "Let's hike out. I don't mind decent honest grease, but this place--look in at table! Dirty dishes---- And gin bottles on the floor!"

"Desert her? When she needs me so?" Claire started forward, but Milt caught her sleeve, and admired, "You were right! You've got more nerve than I have!"

"No. I wouldn't dare if---- I'm glad you're here with me!"

Claire calmed the woman; bound up her hair; washed her face--which needed it; and sat on the log doorstep, holding Dlorus's head in her lap, while Dlorus sobbed, "Pinky--dead! Him that was so lively! And he was so sweet a lover, oh, so sweet. He was a swell fellow; my, he could just make you laugh and cry, the way he talked; and he was so educated, and he played the vi'lin--he could do anything--and athaletic--he would have made me rich. Oh, let me alone. I just want to be alone and think of him. I was so bored with Kloh, and no nice dresses or nothin', and--I did love the kid, but he squalled so, just all the time, and Pinky come, and he was so funny---- Oh, let me alone!"

Claire shivered, then, and the strength seemed to go from the steady arms that had supported Dlorus's head. Dusk had sneaked up on them; the clearing was full of swimming grayness, and between the woman's screams, the woods crackled. Each time Dlorus spoke, her screech was like that of an animal in the woods, and round about them crept such sinister echoes that Milt kept wanting to look back over his shoulder.

"Yes," sighed Claire at last, "perhaps we'd better go."

"If you go, I'll kill myself! Take me to Mr. Kloh! Oh, he was---- My husband, Mr. Kloh. Oh, so good. Only he didn't understand a lady has to have her good times, and Pink danced so well----"

Dlorus sprang up, flung into the cabin, stood in the dimness of the doorway, holding a butcher knife and clamoring, "I will! I'll kill myself if you leave me! Take me down to Mr. Kloh, at North Yakima, tonight!"

Milt sauntered toward her.

"Don't you get flip, young man! I mean it! And I'll kill you----"

Most unchivalrously, quite out of the picture of gray grief, Milt snapped, "That'll be about enough of you! Here! Gimme that knife!"

She dropped the knife, sniveling, "Oh Gawd, somebody's always bullying me! And all I wanted was a good time!"

Claire herded her into the cabin. "We'll take you to your husband--tonight. Come, let's wash up, and I'll help you put on your prettiest dress."

"Honest, will you?" cried the woman, in high spirits, all grief put aside. "I got a dandy China silk dress, and some new white kid shoes!

My, Mr. Kloh, he won't hardly know me. He'll take me back. I know how to handle him. That'll be swell, going back in an automobile. And I got a new hair-comb, with genuine Peruvian diamonds. Say, you aren't kidding me along?"

In the light of the lantern Milt had kindled, Claire looked questioningly at him. Both of them shrugged. Claire promised, "Yes.

Tonight. If we can make it."

"And will you jolly Mr. Kloh for me? Gee, I'll be awfully scared of him.

I swear, I'll wash his dishes and everything. He's a good man. He---- Say, he ain't seen my new parasol, neither!"

CHAPTER XXII

ACROSS THE ROOF OF THE WORLD

Claire dressed Dlorus, cooked a dinner of beet greens, potatoes, and trout; and by bullying and great sweetness kept Dlorus from too many trips to the gin bottle. Milt caught the trout, cut wood, locked in a log shed Pinky's forlorn mining-tools. They started for North Yakima at eight of the evening, with Dlorus, back in the spare seat, alternately sobbing and to inattentive ears announcing what she'd say to the Old Hens.

Milt was devoted to persuading the huge cat of a car to tiptoe down the slippery gouged ruts of the road, and Claire's mind was driving with him. Every time he touched the foot-brake, she could feel the strain in the tendons of her own ankle.

A mile down the main road they stopped at a store-post-office to telephone back to Mr. Boltwood and Dr. Beach. On the porch was a man in overalls and laced boots. He was lean and quick-moving. As he raised his head, and his spectacles flashed, Claire caught Milt's arm and gasped, "Oh, my dear, I'm in a beautiful state of nerves. For a moment I thought that was Jeff Saxton. I bet it is his astral body!"

"And you thought he was going to forbid your running away on this fool expedition, and you were scared," chuckled Milt, as they sat in the car.

"Of course I was! And I still am! I know what he'll say afterward! He _is_ here, reasoning with me. Oughtn't I to be sensible? Oughtn't I to have you leave me at the Beaches' before you start--jolly jaunt to take a strange woman to her presumably homicidal husband! Why am I totally lacking in sense? Just listen to what Jeff is saying!"

"Of course you ought to go back, and let me drive alone. Absolutely insane, your----"

"But you would like me to go along, wouldn't you!"

"Like you to? It's our last ride together, and that bloomin' old Browning never thought of a ride together by midnight over the roof of the world! No, it's really our first ride together, and tomorrow--you're gone."

"No, I sha'n't be gone, but----" Addressing herself to the astounded overalled man on the porch, she declared, "You're quite right, Jeff. And Milt is wrong. Insane adventure. Only, it's wonderful to be young enough to do insane adventures. Falling down abyssy places is so much more interesting than bridge. I'm going--going--going!... Milt, you telephone."

"Don't you think you better?"

"No, siree! Father would forbid me. Try not to get him--just tell Dr.

Beach where we're going, and hang up, and scoot!"

All night they drove; down the Pacific side of Blewett Pa.s.s; down the sweeping spirals to a valley. Dlorus drowsed in the extra seat. Claire's sleepy head was fantastically swaying. She was awakened by an approaching roar and, as though she sat at a play, she watched a big racing machine coming toward them, pa.s.sing them with two wheels in the ditch. She had only a thunderous glimpse of the stolid driver; a dark, hooded, romantic figure, like a sailor at the helm in a storm.

Milt cried, "Golly! May be a transcontinental racer! Be in New York in five days--going night and day--take mud at fifty an hour--crack mechanic right from the factory--change tires in three minutes--people waiting up all night to give him gasoline and a sandwich! That's my idea of fun!"

Studying Milt's shadowed face, Claire considered, "He could do it, too.

Sitting there at the wheel, taking danger and good road with the same steadiness. Oh, he's--well, anyway, he's a dear boy."

But what she said was:

"Less dramatic things for you, now, Milt. Trigonometry is going to be your idea of fun; blueprints and engineering books."

"Yes. I know. I'm going to do it. Do four years' work in three--or two.

I'll tack pages of formulas on the wall, in my b.u.m hallroom, and study 'em while I'm shaving. Oh, I'll be the grind! But learn to dance the fox-trot, though! If America gets into the war, I'll get into the engineering corps, and come back to school afterward."

"Will the finances----"

"I'll sell my garage, by mail. Rauskukle will take it. He won't rob me of more than a thousand dollars on price--not much more."

"You're going to love Seattle. And we'll have some good tramps while I'm there, you and I."

"Honestly? Will you want to?"

"Do you suppose for one second I'd give up my feeling of free air? If you don't come and get me, I'll call on you and make you come!"

"Warn you I'll probably be living over some beanery."

"Probably. With dirty steps leading up to it. I'll sweep the steps. I'll cook supper for you. I can do things, can't I! I did manage Dlorus, didn't I!"