He drew her out and she was soon on the ground again. There was a groan. "Who is that? There is a man hurt somewhere. We must get him out;" she said. "Hurry." By this time the driver of the other machine had crawled out and was on his feet. "It's Allingham," he said, in a tone of horror. "He's under the gear--" "Then get him out--quick," cried Gertrude. Her coolness and quickness of wit stimulated the two men and they set about releasing the imprisoned sufferer. But it was Gertrude Van Deusen who directed them and drew him out from under the wrecked machine, as the two chauffeurs lifted the weight above him. It was John Allingham--quite unconscious. CHAPTER VII An Unusual Ride "We shall have to go back to the nearest farmhouse for help," said the chauffeur who had driven Gertrude Van Deusen. "We cannot get the machines apart without help. Can you stay here with him--alone?" "Yes, yes, go on," she replied. "But first open his coat and get me his handkerchief." She was sitting on the ground with Allingham's head in her lap, staunching with her mouchoir the blood which flowed fast from a cut on his forehead. "And hurry, for we must get him to a doctor as quickly as possible." A moment later she was alone in the beauty of the night, except for the man who lay unconscious beside her. She folded her own handkerchief and laid it on the wound and then arranged the larger one as a bandage. In tying it around his forehead, her fingers came in contact with his face--a white upturned face which appealed to her pity so deeply that she stopped to smooth his wide brow, as if he were a suffering child. Allingham awoke suddenly as if an electric current flowed suddenly through his veins. His eyes opened, and gazing upward, he looked straight into the clear face above him, which was, also, changed and white in the moonlight. For a moment he did not recognize her. It was as if their kindred spirits had met in clear space, away from all earthly conditions. But in a moment, returning consciousness drew the veil between them and he sat up, still clinging to her hand. "You!" he cried, "and here? What has happened? Why are you here?" "We are having our joint debate," she replied whimsically, her voice betraying nothing of the tumult within. "But we are having it in an unlooked for place and fashion. And you have the worst of it. Be careful, please. Don't try to get up. The men have gone back for help. Our affairs seem to be decidedly mixed; but never mind; we shall soon be out of the woods--literally, I trust." "How can you keep so calm?" said Allingham. "Most women would have gone to pieces. Why aren't you in tears?" "Perhaps to demonstrate my fitness for the mayoralty of Roma," she replied with a touch of sarcasm. "There, the men are coming, with two others."