The girl darted a swift, furtive glance up and down the road, and suddenly thrust a bundle tied in a greasy apron between the rails, letting it fall in the high, dusty weeds by the roadside. Next she climbed to the top of the fence, and for a moment perched there, displaying a slim length of coarse black stocking above clumping, square-toed shoes at least two sizes too large for her. She looked like a very forlorn, feminine _Monte Cristo_ indeed, as she scanned the world from her vantage-point, and yet there was a look of quiet satisfaction and achievement in her incongruously dark eyes which told of a momentous object accomplished. Then all at once they stared and softened as she caught sight of that still figure lying across the road, and in two bounds she was beside him and lifted his head against her sharp knees. She noted only casually that he was a clean-shaven, tanned young man with brown hair bleached by the sun to a warm gold, and that he wore shabby, weather-beaten clothes. Had she realized that those same worn, faded garments bore the stamp of one of New York's most exclusive tailors! that the boots were London-made, and the golf-stockings which met the corduroy knickerbockers came from one of Scotland's famous mills, it would have meant just exactly nothing in her young life. Her immediate attention was concentrated upon the jagged gash which ran unpleasantly close to his temple, and which had begun to bleed afresh as she raised his head. The girl looked about her again and saw that a short distance ahead the road was bisected by a bridge of planks with willows bordering it at either side. She pulled at the strings which held a blue sunbonnet dangling between her narrow shoulder-blades, regarded the sleazy headgear ruefully, and then spying the cap in the ditch, she deposited her burden gently upon the grass once more and scrambled over to investigate her find. The cap had an inner lining of something which seemed to be like rubber, and the girl flew off down the road to return with her improvised bowl filled with clear, cold spring water. Dropping on her knees beside the unconscious figure, she poured the contents of the cap over his face and head. The young man sputtered, gasped, moaned a little, and opened astonished brown eyes upon her. "How--how the devil did you come here?" he asked ungallantly. "Over the fence." Her reply was laconic, but it bore an unmistakable hint that further query along that line would be highly unwelcome. "Just you lay still while I git some more water, an' I'll tie up that head of yourn." The young man's hand went unsteadily to his aching brow and came away brightly pink, so he decided to take this uncomely vision's advice, and remained quiescent, wondering how he himself had come to be there, and what had happened to him. According to the map, he had surely been on the right road, yet it had as assuredly not looked like this one; the other had been a broad, State highway, while this----