against God and having exercised it for her own
pleasure rather than for His glory.

Down the road to the left the car sped, and after a mile and a half of
growing darkness, with woods and scattered farmhouses, the lights of a
village began to appear. But it was no village that Leslie knew, and
nothing anywhere gave her a clew. A trolley line appeared, however;
and after a little a car came along with a name that showed it was
going cityward. Leslie decided to follow the trolley track.

In the meantime the girl in the back seat roused up, and began to look
about her, evidently recognizing something familiar in the streets or
town.

"You can put me out here, Leslie; I'm done with you," she said
haughtily. "I don't care to go any farther with you. I'll go back on
the train."

"No!" said Leslie sharply. "You'll go home with me. I took you away
without knowing what you intended, but I mean to put you back where
you were before I'm done. Then my responsibility for you will be over.
I was a fool to let you deceive me that way, but I'm not a fool any
longer."

"Well, I _won't_ go home with you, so! and that's flat, Leslie Cloud.
You needn't think you can frighten me into going, either. We're in a
village now, and my aunt lives here. If you get out that revolver
again, I'll scream and have you arrested, and tell them you're trying
to murder me; so there!"

For answer Leslie turned sharply into a cross-road that led away from
the settled portion of the town, and put on all speed, tearing away
into the dusk like a wild creature. Myrtle screamed and stormed behind
her, all to no purpose. Leslie Cloud had her mettle up, and meant to
take her prisoner home. Out of the town she turned into another road
that ran parallel to the trolley track, from which she could see the
lights of the trolleys passing now and again, as it grew darker; and
by and by when they came to another cross-road, Leslie got back to the
trolley track, and followed it; but whenever they came into a town she
kept to its outskirts.

Leslie had a pretty good general sense of direction, and she knew just
where the sun went down. If it had not been for a river and some hills
that turned up and bewildered her, she would have made a pretty direct
course home; but, as it was, she went far out of her way, and was long
delayed and much distressed besides, being continually harassed by the
angry girl in the back seat. The gasoline was holding out. It was
evident t