hat I ought not to
stay out after that.

Well, just as we left the second bridge, something happened to the motor.

Uncle Rod, _that was last night_, and I didn't get back to Bower's until
a few hours ago, and here is the whole truth before I write any more----

_Geoffrey Fox tried to run away with me!_

It would seem like a huge joke if it were not so serious. I don't know
how he got such an idea in his head. Perhaps he thought that life was
like one of his books--that all he had to do was to plan a plot, and then
make it work out in his own way. He said, in that first awful moment,
when I knew what he had done, "I thought I could play Cave Man and get
away with it." You see, he hadn't taken into consideration that I wasn't
a Cave Woman!

When the engine first went wrong I wasn't in the least worried. He fixed
it, and we went on. Then it stopped and we drifted: the moon went down
and it was cold, and finally Geoffrey made me curl up among the cushions.
I felt that it must be very late, but Geoffrey showed me his watch, and
it was only a little after ten. I knew Peter wouldn't be going to the
bridge until eleven, and I hoped by that time we would be home.

But we weren't. We were far, far down the river. At last I gave up hope
of arriving before the house closed, but I knew that I could explain to
Mrs. Bower.

After that I napped and nodded, for I was very tired, and all the time
Geoffrey tinkered with the broken motor. Each time that I waked I asked
questions but he always quieted me--and at last--as the dawn began to
light the world, a pale gray spectral sort of light, Uncle Rod, I saw
that the shore on one side of us was not far away, but on the other it
was a mere dark line in the distance--double the width that the river is
at Bower's. Geoffrey was standing up and steering toward a little pier
that stuck its nose into shallow water. Back of the pier was what seemed
to be an old warehouse, and in a clump of trees back of that there was a
thin church spire.

I said, "Where are we?" and he said, "I am not sure, but I am going in to
see if I can get the motor mended."

I couldn't think of anything but how worried the Bowers would be. "You
must find a telephone," I told him, "and call Beulah, and let her know
what has happened."

He ran up to the landing and fastened the boat, and then he helped me
out. "We will sit here and have a bit of breakfast first," he said;
"there's some coffee left in Brinsley's hot