“Wait a minute. Give me the check, you lunatic.” She handed it to him; he took Blake’s and went to the door. When he came back with the coats——“There,” he said. “We don’t have to be quite half cocked, do we? Now about money. We’ll need gas, Gin: try to snap out of it. I’m broke. Is everyone?” “No,” said Blake, “I’ve got fifteen dollars.” “I cashed my salary today,” said Gin. “I have twenty. That’s enough, isn’t it?” “It’s got to be. All right, let’s go. Let’s see where we can be by morning.” He wrapped his coat around him and sat back. Blake laughed loudly. “Ready?” he called. “Everybody ready?” “Let’s go!” The engine raced for a minute. Blake backed the car, then started down the road to Albuquerque. CHAPTER SIXTEEN Before they had come to the gap that cuts a sharp high line of hills and marks the half-way point to Albuquerque, the sun came up. It was gloriously melodramatic over the little crawling black car; it spouted red and orange over the sky, and the fresh midsummer wind was cool and ethereal. Gin held up her chin and closed her eyes for a second, sniffing. Then she opened them hastily, for she was driving and it would not do to go to sleep. Not that she felt sleepy; she was still tingling and wide-awake. She peered into the mirror at Blake, asleep and white-faced in the tonneau, and wondered at his indifference. But the poor kid had been through a rotten night: only in the last half-hour he had stopped jerking and looking back over his shoulder at the empty black road behind them. It was awful to be a kid. Even the law wouldn’t help. Thinking of the law, she felt afraid again. It was time to ask Teddy the question she had thought of hours before, but had put out of her mind. “Teddy,” she said in a low voice. He woke from his doze, beside her, and cocked an eyebrow. “Teddy, are we all right with Blake?” “Why not?” His voice was husky: a morning voice. “Couldn’t we get into trouble driving off with the car like this?” “No. It’s his car. His own car.” “I don’t mean robbery; I mean the Mann act, or kidnapping, or whatever you call it. He’s a minor, isn’t he?” She watched him and grew more uneasy, for worry appeared on his face. “Gosh,” he murmured. “I don’t know anything about the law.... You think they might send the police after us?” She shrugged helplessly. He pondered for a minute, then turned around and tugged at Blake’s foot. “Wake up, kid—you can sleep again in a minute. Listen; how worried do you think your mother will be?” Blake sat up with a guilty jerk and rubbed his eyes. He was frightened at first; then he remembered and smiled. Watching him through the driving mirror, Gin knew that she would fight for him no matter what the police did. She’d keep him out of school if he didn’t want to go back. She’d take care of him. “What did you say?” “We were wondering about your mother,” said Teddy. “Will she send the police after us? You’re a runaway, you know.”