Dibley stared. "No, sir; I didn't think of it then, but they didn't. They didn't put it into the car. They took it in their bucket with them. It was one of those folding buckets motor people have." Eaton gazed at the man. "Only three, you are sure!" he repeated. "And none of them seemed to be hurt!" "No, sir." "Then they went off in the other direction from the bridge?" "Yes, sir. I didn't notice the bridge burning till after they went. So I came down here." Eaton let the man go. Dibley looked again at the girl and moved away a little. She turned to Eaton. "What does that mean?" she called to him. "How many should there have been in the machine? What did they want with the water?" "Six!" Eaton told her. "There should have been six in the machine, and one, at least, badly hurt!" Dibley stood dully apart, staring at one and then at the other and next to the flaming bridge. He looked down the road. "There's another car coming," he announced. "Two cars!" The double glare from the headlights of a motor shone through the tree-trunks as the car topped and came swiftly down a rise three quarters of a mile away and around the last turn back on the road; another pair of blinding lights followed. There was no doubt that this must be the pursuit from Santoine's house. Eaton stood beside Harriet, who had stayed in the driving-seat of the car. "You know Dibley well, Harriet?" he asked. "He's worked on our place. He's dependable," she answered. Eaton put his hand over hers which still clung to the driving wheel. "I'm going just beside the road here," he said to her, quietly. "I'm armed, of course. If those are your people, you'd better go back with them. I'm sure they are; but I'll wait and see." She caught at his hand. "No; no!" she cried. "You must get as far away as you can before they come! I'm going back to meet and hold them." She threw the car into the reverse, backed and turned it and brought it again onto the road. He came beside her again, putting out his hand; she seized it. Her hands for an instant clung to it, his to hers. "You must go--quick!" she urged; "but how am I to know what becomes of you--where you are? Shall I hear from you--shall I ever see you?" "No news will be good news," he said, "until--" "Until what?" "Until--" And again that unknown something which a thousand times--it seemed to her--had checked his word and action toward her made him pause; but nothing could completely bar them from one another now. "Until they catch and destroy me, or--until I come to you as--as you have never known me yet!"