His fingers twitched, his arms trembled as he sought to hold back the muscles, then, yielding to the impulse, he started-- "Da-a-a-g-gone it!" "What's the matter ?" "Nothing." But Fairchild was n't telling the truth.

They had reached the light just at the wrong, wrong moment.

Out of the skip he lifted her, then inquired the way to the sheriff's office of this, a new county.

The direction was given, and they went there.

They told their story.