I doubt if any bold, bad knight of old ever had the effrontery to carry his lady-love straight past her own door in broad daylight.
Yet it was the safest thing I could do.

I meant to get to Osage, and the only practicable route for a car lay through the pass.

To be sure, there was a preacher at Kenmore; but with the chance of old King being there also and interrupting the ceremony--supposing I brought matters successfully that far--with a shot or two, did not in the least appeal to me.

I had made sure that there was plenty of gasoline aboard, so I drove her right along.
"I hope your father isn't home," I remarked truthfully when we were slipping into the wide jaws of the pass.
"He is, though; and so is Mr.Weaver.I think you had better jump out here and run home, or it is not a velvet mask you will need, but a mantle of invisibility." I couldn't make much of her tone, but her words implied that even yet she would not take me seriously.
"Well, I've neither mask nor mantle," I said, "But the way I can fade down the pass will, I think, be a fair substitute for both." She said nothing whatever to that, but she began to seem interested in the affair--as she had need to be.

She might have jumped out and escaped while I was down opening the gate--but she didn't.