ont tires of Terry's car thudded on the heavy planks. He glimpsed
Blenham jogging along behind her and knew that Blenham had seen him.

But his eyes were for Terry now. She, too, had recognized him with but
a few yards separating them. She gave him a blast of her horn
warningly, and, slowing down no more than was necessary for the sharp
turn, came on across the bridge. He read it in her eye that it would
be an abiding joy for Miss Terry if she could send him scampering out
of her way; the horn as much as said: "You step aside or I'll run you
down!"

With no intention of going under the wheels, Steve waited until the
last moment and then jumped. But not to the side as Terry had
anticipated. Obeying his impulse and taking his chance, he sprang up
to her running-board as she whizzed over the bouncing planks of the
bridge, grasping the door of her car to steady himself. The feat
safely accomplished, he grinned up into Terry's startled eyes.

"We meet again," he laughed sociably. "Howdy!"

Her lips tight-pressed, she gave her attention for a moment to her
wheel and the rutty road in front of her. Her cheeks were red and grew
redder. Perhaps a dozen men, here and there upon the street, had seen.
She had meant them to see; it would have tickled her no little to have
had them note Steve Packard flying wildly to the side of the road while
she shot by. She had not counted upon him doing anything else.

"Smarty!" she cried hotly.

"Smart enough to climb out from under when an automobile driven by a
manslaughter artist comes along," he chuckled, sensing an advantage and
drawing a deep enjoyment from it. "Don't you know, young lady, you've
got to be careful sometimes? Now, if you had run over me----"

"Serve you right," sniffed Terry.

"Yes, but think! Running over a man who hasn't had time to take his
spurs off yet, why you stood all kinds of chances getting a puncture!
You don't want to forget things like that."

Terry bit her lip, stepped on the throttle, swung across the street,
made a reckless turn, and brought up in front of the lunch-counter.

"Do you know," remarked Packard lightly, ignoring the fact that she had
answered him with only the contempt of her silence, "you remind me of
my grandfather. Fact! You two have the same little trick of driving.
Wonder what would happen if you and he met on a narrow road?"

"At least," said Terry, eying him belligerently, "he is a man, if he is
a scoundrel. N