could bury her head and she didn't want to cry in front of the
men in the company.

The valley was hushed for a moment. Even the thunder was silent in the
breathless pause that often comes just before a mid-summer storm vents
its fury.

It was during this pause that Helen, watching the hills below the storm
clouds, caught a flash of light. It was too low for lightning and she
gripped Janet's right arm.

"There's a car coming!" she cried.

Janet turned hopefully and looked in the direction Helen pointed, but
there was no sign of light and she heard an involuntary sob escape from
Helen.

Then it came again, two twin beams of light cutting around a hill. Helen
was right! A car was coming and Janet, unashamed, felt the tears flowing
freely down her cheeks.

Billy Fenstow was talking to himself.

"I knew that lanky cowboy would do it," he said, repeating it over and
over as though he were a human talking machine, stuck on a single note.

A horn sounded a warning note as the oncoming vehicle swung into the
ranchyard just as the sky opened and the first sweep of rain struck the
valley. Forgetting all else, they ran toward the machine, which proved
to be a hulking truck, with a covered top.

Janet and Helen reached the rear. Someone reached down and pulled them
under the shelter of the top. A flashlight blazed into their faces and a
strong arm encircled Janet's shoulder. It was Helen's father and they
knew that their worries for that eventful night were over.

Chapter Eleven

NEW PLANS

The sky seemed to open wide and a great torrent of rain descended on the
heat-ridden earth, but Janet and Helen, in the shelter of the truck,
were safe.

"All right, honey?" demanded Helen's father, and, assured that his
daughter was no more than bruised and weary, he turned to Janet.

"How about you, Janet?" he asked.

"Tired and dirty--that's all," she managed to smile.

"Here's blankets," he said, picking two off a pile on the floor of the
truck. "Throw these around your shoulders."

The air was chill now and the girls obeyed without hesitation for their
own clothes were in a bad state of disrepair.

"How did you find us?" asked Helen when they were seated on the floor of
the truck, and bouncing along toward the main highway which would take
them back to Hollywood.

"Curt Newsom got through. We were frantic after the line went dead when
you were talking to us from the ranchhouse. We were coming in the truck
a