e laughed in a demented way--and
rolled his body over, and fell to the other side.

"JIMMIE!"

The cry seemed to reach some inner consciousness, revive him, send the
blood whipping through his veins. That voice! It was her--HERS! The
Tocsin! There was an automobile, engine racing, standing there in the
road. He won to his feet--dark, rushing forms were almost at the wall.
He fired--once--twice--fired again--and turned, staggering for the car.

"Jimmie! Jimmie--QUICK!"

Panting, gasping, he half fell into the tonneau. The car leaped forward,
yells filled the air--but only one thing was dominant in Jimmie Dale's
reeling brain now. He pulled himself up to his feet, and leaned over the
back of the seat, reaching for the slim figure that was bent over the
wheel.

"It's you--you at last!" he cried. "Your face--let me lee your face!"

A bullet split the back panel of the car--little spurting flames were
dancing out from the roadway behind.

"Are you mad!" she shouted back at him. "Let me steer--do you want them
to hit me!"

"No-o," said Jimmie Dale, in a queer singsong sort of way, and his
head seemed to spin dizzily around. "No--I guess--" He choked. "The
paper--it's in--my pocket"--and he went down unconscious on the floor of
the car.

When he recovered his senses he was lying on a couch in a plainly
furnished room, and a man, a stranger, red, jovial-faced, farmerish
looking, was bending over him.

"Where am I?" he demanded finally, propping himself up on his elbow.

"You're all right," replied the man. "She said you'd come around in a
little while."

"Who said so?" inquired Jimmie Dale.

"She did. The woman who brought you here about five minutes ago. She
said she ran you down with her car."

"Oh!" said Jimmie Dale. He felt his head--it was bandaged, and it was
bandaged, he was quite sure, with a piece of torn underskirt. He looked
at the man again. "You haven't told me yet where I am."

"Long Island," the other answered. "My name's Hanson. I keep a bit of a
truck garden here."

"Oh," said Jimmie Dale again.

The man crossed the room, picked up an envelope from the table, and came
back to Jimmie Dale.

"She said to give you this as soon as you got your senses, and asked us
to put you up for a while, as long as you wanted to stay, and paid
us for it, too. She's all right, she is. You don't want to hold the
accident up against her, she was mighty sorry about it. And now I'll go
and see if the old lady