"An auto's gone to smash, down there, or I'm a plute!" He needed no second thought to hurl him forward to the rescue.

At a smart pace he ran, halloo'ing loudly, to tell the victims--should they still live--that help was at hand.

At his right, extended the wall.

At his left, a grove of sugar-maples, sparsely set, climbed a long slope, over the ridge of which the descending sun glowed warmly.

Somewhat back from the road, a rough shack which served as a sugar-house for the spring sap-boiling, stood with gaping door, open to all the winds that blew.