Burke decided to let her have the truth, or part of the truth. She'd get it anyway, if she examined the replaced "spare" on the car's rack. "There wasn't no blow-out," he stated, defensively. "There wasn't! What do you mean?" He saw that she was first surprised, then startled, then, as some sudden reflection came to her, actually appalled. "I mean that there wasn't no blow-out." "No blow-out? Then--then--what did I hear?" She asked the question of Burke, and, as she asked it, recoiled suddenly, as if he had struck her. "P'raps you got a back-fire," he suggested, reassuringly. "You come down the steep hill up there, didn't you?" Doris pulled herself together, shrugged her shoulders, and resolutely smiled at him. She knew the difference between the sound of a blow-out and the back-firing of an irritated engine. But some abysmal instinct made her suddenly cautious, though with that same instinct her inner panic developed. _What had she heard?_ "I put on a 'spare,' anyway," Burke was saying. "The rear right looked a little weak, so I changed it." He was tacitly explaining the bill he had submitted, but Doris did not hear him. _What had she heard?_ Insistently the question repeated itself in her mind. She turned dizzily, and went back for the coat. As she did so she heard Burke's voice. "Why--hel-lo!" Even in that moment she observed its modulation. It had begun on a note of cheery surprise and ended on one of sharp concern. Turning, she saw Laurie. He had nodded to Burke, and was obviously trying to speak naturally. "All ready?" he asked. The remark was addressed to them both, but he looked at neither. There was an instant of utter silence during which they took him in, Burke with insistent, goggling eyes, Doris with one quick glance, soul-searching and terror-filled. Burke spoke first. "What you been doin' to yerself?" he gasped. The question was inevitable. Laurie was hatless and disheveled. His coat was torn, and across one pallid cheek ran a deep cut, freshly bleeding. "Fell," he said, tersely. He was breathing hard, as if he had been running. He had not yet looked at Doris, but now he abruptly swung into the little office and emerged, bringing her coat. Without a word, he held it for her. In equal silence, she slipped into it. He retrieved the cap from the pile of discarded garments still lying on the office floor, put it on, and indicated the waiting car. "Get in," he commanded. She obeyed and he followed her, taking his place at the wheel. "You're hurt," she almost whispered. "Shall I drive?" [Illustration: "What you been doin' to yerself?" he gasped] "No--Burke!" The word was like a pistol shot. "Y-yessir!" Burke was stammering. In his excitement he was hardly conscious that another bill had found its way into his hand, but his hand had automatically reached for and closed on it. "Keep your mouth shut." "Y-yessir."