"Swell, isn't it?" she commented cheerily. Her choice of adjectives repelled any further comments on Nature by him. "I'm not used to sleeping out," she said, as he carefully raked over the remains of the fire, "and it didn't seem to rest me. Thank you for making me so comfortable, Mr. Walters." She spoke gently; altogether her manner was so much more subdued this morning that he felt the same wave of pity he had felt when Bender had first mentioned her case to him. "I am sorry," he said, "that you had to stay out here all night. It was my fault; but you will have a more comfortable resting place to-night." A sound was heard: a modern, welcome sound, breaking in distractingly on the primeval silence. Kurt hastened to the road and saw the encouraging prelude of dust. The passing tourist gave him the requisite supply of gasoline and continued on his way. "Come on, Pen!" called the sheriff. She suppressed a smile as she followed. "You called me by my first name," she couldn't resist reminding him. "I didn't know your last one," he responded quickly and resentfully as he helped her into the car. "Let me think. I've had so many aliases--suppose I make out a list and let you take your choice. Most of my pals call me 'The Thief.'" The look of yesterday came back to his eyes at her flippant tone and words. "Don't!" he said harshly. "This morning I had forgotten what you were." "I wish I could," she said forlornly. "We won't talk about it any more. Play I am pink perfect until we get to this 'first lady of the land' up at Top Hill. Oh, but motoring in the dawn is shivery! I loathe early morning when you get up to it. If you _stay up_ for it, it's different." He looked down at her quickly. In the crisp morning air, her little figure was shaking as if with a chill. Her face was very white, and there was a bluish look about her mouth. He stopped the car suddenly. She smiled faintly at his look of concern. "I'm all right," she said reassuringly, a spark of raillery again showing in her eyes before they closed, and she fell limply against him. When she had recovered the consciousness she had lost but momentarily, he was vigorously rubbing her hands. "How warm and strong your hands feel," she said with a little sigh of content. "I never did anything so out of date before. I couldn't help it." "You are nearly frozen," he said brusquely. "Why don't you wear more clothes?" "I am wearing all I have," she said plaintively, with an attempt at a giggle. A sudden recollection came to him. From under the seat he brought forth a heavy, gray sweater. "I forgot I had this with me. Put it on." "It's a slip-on. I'll have to take off my hat and coat to get into it." When she removed her soft, shabby, battered hat which she had worn well down over her eyes even while she slept, her hair, rippling bronze and golden lights, fell about her face and shoulders in semi-curls. He helped her into the sweater.