and stepping up onto the running-board, Reba slipped her fingers into the tiny space at the top of the window and slipped it down, leaned as far forward as she could, and with a little spring caught hold of a corner of the yellow coat, and dragged it towards her; then pushed up the window again, hopped down from the step, and with both coat and sweater safely over her arm hurried swiftly away.
It was a dark moonless night, and the narrow country road that wound for several miles over rough and uninhabited woodlands was infrequently lighted. Reba knew that there was but one road that approached the restaurant, so she could not lose her way in the apparent wilderness that surrounded her. She knew too that once she reached the state-road there was located a railroad station not far away, for often parties came out from town to dine at the restaurant, and were met at this station by the establishment's motor-bus. But whether she should turn to the left or right when she reached the main highway Reba had no idea. As she scurried along the dark road, it occurred to her as fortunate that she had chanced to bring her shopping-bag with her. But for the sailor's wedding-ring which had necessitated some sort of receptacle she might have been without railroad fare. There was at least ten dollars inside her bag.
Reba was not afraid to walk the dark country roads about Ridgefield on moonless nights, and she told herself there was nothing to be afraid of here. And she wasn't afraid at first. It was when the lights of an approaching automobile appeared around an abrupt curve, that her heart suddenly jerked. She stepped back quickly out of sight behind some bushes, but after
