"I can limp along, I dare say." I was wet and cold, and horribly miserable. "Don't let me detain you. They can't arrest me for stealing their wine. You did that." He turned to me suddenly. "Fan," he said solemnly, "don't ask me why, but we must get out of here quick. Must! If you can't walk, roll. Now come on!" There were no houses in sight. The trolley line ends there, and I think it is a picnic grove. He took my hand and dragged me along. I lost my other slipper, but he paid no attention when I told him of it; and just when I was about to sink down and die we reached a road. "Now," said Ferd, "they came in something--machines probably--for they'll have to get back, and there are no more cars. Ah, there they are!" There were two machines. I gripped Ferd's arm and held him back desperately. "The chauffeurs?" I gasped. "We'll kill 'em, if necessary," he said between clenched teeth. We were loping down the road toward the machines--Ferd sloshing, rather, with each step; and we could hear loud calling from the islands and the banging of oars in oarlocks. "F-Ferd," I managed to say, "c-can--you--drive--a--car?" "Why, you can, can't you?" "I--can--d-drive--my--own car. I d-don't--know about--any other." "They're all alike. The principle's the same." "I don't know anything about the principles," I said despairingly. "And I won't touch a strange machine." "Oh, very well!" said Ferd sulkily. "We'll make a deuce of a stir--arrested here for stealing a case of champagne; but never mind. It'll blow over." "We can tell the whole story." "We cannot!" he said gloomily. "We can't tell on Jane and Annette and Catherine. We'll have to take our medicine, that's all. We needn't give our own names. That's one thing." I was perfectly crazed with fright and exhaustion. I leaned up against a fence, and I remembered the time Lily Slater asked Ollie Haynes to see her off to Chicago, her husband being out of town; and how Ollie was carried two hundred miles before the train would stop to let him off; and how Harry never believed the story and was off shooting big game at that very minute; and Lily getting gray over her ears as a result, and not even going out to lunch with anybody for fear there were detectives watching her. And, compared with Day, Harry Slater was an angel of mildness. The boat was almost across by that time and Ferd was wringing the ends of his trousers. A sort of frenzy seized me. It seemed to me it would be better to be found crushed under a strange car than to be arrested for stealing champagne. I started on, rather tottery. "I'll try it, Ferd," I said. "I think we'll be killed; but come on!"