Catherine was still begging her to be silent, when a terrific jolt nearly threw her off her feet. In great alarm the girls sprang to the little rear door to get out and escape. But as a result probably of the rocking and straining of the frail structure, the plank that Catherine set against the door had settled down and stuck fast. Again and again she tried to pull it away, but she could not move it. Theodora also tugged at it--in vain. They were imprisoned; they could not get out; and meanwhile the old "saloon" was bumping over the rough road. "Oh, who do you suppose it is?" Theodora whispered, weak from fear. "Where do you suppose he is going with us?" "We must find out. Hold the chair steady, Doad, if you can, while I get up and look out." She set the chair under the skylight again, and then, while Theodora held it steady, climbed upon it--no easy matter with the vehicle rocking so violently--and tried to raise the skylight. But that, too, had jammed. At last, by pushing hard against it, she succeeded in raising it far enough to let her peer out over the flat roof. There, in the moonlight, she saw a strange-looking creature,--a man,--who rolled and ambled rather than walked; he was leading a white horse by the bit, and the horse was dragging the "saloon" down the road. The man was a truly terrifying spectacle. He seemed to be a giant; his head projected far forward between his shoulders, and on his back was what looked like a camel's hump! His feet were not like human feet, but rather like huge hoofs; and the man, if he was one, wabbled forward on them in a way that turned Catherine quite sick with apprehension. All she could think of was the picture of Giant Despair in her grandmother's copy of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. Unable to imagine who or what he could be, Catherine stood for some moments and stared at him, fascinated. All the while Theodora was anxiously whispering: "Who is it? Who is it? Oh, let me see!" "Don't try to look," Catherine answered earnestly, as she leaped to the floor. "Doad, we must get out if we can." She threw herself at the door again and tried to pull it open; Theodora joined her, but even together they could not stir it. Meanwhile the "saloon" swayed and jolted over the rough road; to keep from pitching headlong from side to side the girls had to sit down on the sacks. Their one consoling thought was that, if they could not get out, their captor, whoever he was, could not get in. They were a little cheered, too, when they realized that the wagon was apparently following the road that led toward home. But when they had gone about three or four miles and had come to the branch road that led to Lurvey's Mills, they felt the old "saloon" turn off from the main road. With sinking hearts they struggled again to open the door, until, weak and exhausted, they gave up.