“Such a stupid accident!” said Miss Letty, who felt very badly at upsetting the plan of a swift downhill ride home, even though she was in no way to blame. “I’ll tell you what we can do,” said Anne, brightening up, as the party was about to divide. “Instead of going up around the Ridge to the turnpike, we can cut straight across the fields. There is a little blacksmith’s shop at the mill corner where they do all sorts of tinkering for the farmers that go by to town, and I’m positive I’ve seen a sign ‘Bicycles repaired’ on the tree. There are bars that we can let down in crossing lots and that dead tree back on the hilltop will do for a guide-post, for I saw it from the other side this morning as we came up. Then it stood about halfway between the roads.” This seemed the most sensible thing to do; and though of course the country was strange both to Miss Letty and the Willoughbys, they had entire confidence in Anne. So the bars were dropped, and the party trooped through and crossed the field diagonally, keeping the dead tree on the hilltop well in front of them. “I don’t see any bars in that fence yonder, but it’s old and tumble-down, and we can easily lift the wheels over,” said Anne, who was beginning to feel the responsibility of what she had undertaken. When they reached the fence, however, a new difficulty presented itself--the old rails and posts were meshed in and out with barbed wire, rusty, and formidable as the quills of an angry porcupine. “It is certain that we can neither crawl over, under, or through that,” said Elsa Willoughby, speaking decidedly, and evidently feeling rather bored. “We must follow the fence south,” said Anne, cheerfully; “it ends somewhere, you know.” For ten or fifteen minutes they went on without speaking. It is not easy to walk through uneven, briery fields, much less to lead bicycles. “The dead tree is behind us, now,” said Miss Letty, stopping suddenly; “and ought we not to come to the river? We must cross it before we reach the turnpike.” “I wonder if there is any bridge here in the fields where there is no road?” said Martica, rather sarcastically. “Oh, look at those black clouds!” cried Louise, “They have whirled about and are coming directly toward us.” Then for the first time Anne realized that not only was she uncertain of her whereabouts, but that they were likely to be overtaken by the fury of a summer storm; for the clouds were followed by a yellow underscud whose meaning she well understood. “At most we can only get a wetting,” said Miss Letty, putting her arm around Anne; her sunny disposition conquering her feeling of alarm, when she saw her friend’s distress. “I’m sure that I heard a dog bark, too; and if there is a dog near by, there must be a house.”