His sincere and serious manner had its effect and she answered simply, "Anything that you think is best, of course. But could we not experiment a little, and try to stop it? It cannot be anything very complicated, since it has to be done so often." "No, no, no!" Antony cried nervously, "not while I'm in my right mind! It may seem foolish to you," he continued more stiffly, "but I have reached my limit of experiment. I--I know nothing of any kind of machinery--I loathe it. As soon as I began anything of that sort, my nerve would go. You remember the result when you stamped on that brass knob? Well, I admit that I am not equal to a repetition, to be quite frank." "I thought men always understood machinery," she murmured impatiently. "All the men I know are quite clever at it." Now, curiously enough, this pettish and really inexcusable fling did not produce its presumable effect upon Antony. Whether he felt that it was partly justified and that he was really in some sort unworthy of his sex, or whether the actuality of their pressing danger rendered him immune as regards such flighty stabs, is not known, but it remains a fact that he merely pursed his lips indulgently and spoke as follows: "You are indeed fortunate in your acquaintance. I regret that practice in steering horses, sail boats, bob sleds and to a certain small extent, dirigible balloons, has left me little leisure--and less inclination--for these evil-smelling devil-waggons. Neither the steamfitter nor the engineer has ever appealed to me----" He ceased abruptly, and as his voice died out she looked questioningly at him, for even her slight acquaintance with the young gentleman had taught her that he was not one to leave a well-planned sentence incomplete from choice. "What is it?" she asked breathlessly. "That wild road is on the other side of Huntersville!" he said, with an utter absence of comment that impressed her more deeply than any of his previous conversational embroideries. Indeed, the pointed spire of the Huntersville church rose white before them and scattered houses even now lined the road. "I wish we were going uphill now," Antony began, "and I should advise you to jump. I don't believe you'd make such a mess of it as a great many girls would be likely to. Of course, you might have on the last hill, but I hated the idea of it. It may be steering will do. But if it's a question of running someone down, you'll have to, of course, and I'll turn sharp about and take my chance. Or aim at tree. Now, blow the horn hard, please, and when I say jump, go the way the car is going, and clear it well. You may sprain your ankle or get a bruise or two, but that won't kill you. It's a small sort of place, and we might get through. Don't stop the horn a moment. What's that idiot doing?"