er.

Tommy had tightened his grip on the cushion. His body was swaying from
side to side, now and then humping up into the air as the wheels passed
over a hummock.

"I shall go on as long as the rims hold," flung back Ruth in
acknowledgment of his warning about the tires.

The young man knew very well that the rims were likely to be crunched
in like egg shells at any second. That would mean the complete wreck of
the car and no doubt the instant death of the passengers at the speed
they were now traveling. The soft, springy snow that covered the ground
protected the rims from the hard road somewhat. He observed, however,
that in rounding sharp turns in the road, Ruth steadied the car with her
foot brake. She was driving with great skill, even though the pace was a
reckless one. Bob gazed at the back of her head, a great admiration for
her pluck welling up within him. But he felt sorry for Tommy. It was
plainly to be seen that Thomas Warrington Presby was not having the
happiest ride imaginable.

"Almost there," encouraged Ruth. "If anything happens, never mind me,
but run for the house as fast as you can go."

He did not answer, but he was thinking deeply. Something of a very
serious nature must have occurred at Treasureholme to make necessary all
this haste. He did not know that they had sent for him because of the
great confidence the Presbys reposed in him. It would have made little
difference to the resourceful Bob Stevens if he had known.

The car lurched into the drive, past the scene of Ruth's previous
disaster, where the broken posts and twisted gates still lay at one
side of the drive. None of the occupants of the car heeded these
evidences of a former smash-up. Ruth's eyes were on the drive. Bob's
eyes were on the house, while Tommy's eyes were so full of snow that
they weren't fixed on anything in particular.

The car came to a jolting stop in front of the Presby home. At that
instant the rear of the car settled with a crunching sound.

"There go the rims," said Ruth calmly. "But I don't care now. Please
hurry."

Bob lifted Tommy to the ground, the boy being on the side that Stevens
had leaped from just as the rims were going down. He then assisted Ruth
out. Tommy rubbed the snow from his eyes, blinked rapidly and gazed at
Ruth.

"Never no more for mine," he declared, with ungrammatical force.

Ruth tried to run up the steps. She halted suddenly. Her body swayed
unsteadily. Stevens thought she wa