town and I might as well take my life in my hands and go with you, Ike," and she swung herself into the seat beside him.
Ike started the machine again. He was delighted. Never before had Sally Dickson allowed him to be alone with her more than a scant few moments at a time. Ike began to swallow hard, the perspiration stood on his brow and he grew actually pale around the mouth. It seemed to him as though everything inside of him rose up in his throat. As he told about it long afterward, if somebody had shot him through the body just then it would only have made a flesh-wound!
"Sally!" he gasped, before her father's store and the schoolhouse were out of sight.
"Why, Ike! what's the matter with you? Are you sick?"
"N-no! I ain't sick," mumbled the bashful one.
"You're surely not scared?' demanded Sally. "There hasn't anything happened wrong to this automobile?"
"No, ma'am."
"Are you sure? It bumps a whole lot—Ugh! It's not running away, is it?"
"I tell yuh it's tame all right," grunted Ike.
"Then, what's the matter with you, Ike Stedman?" demanded the school-mistress, with considerable sharpness.
