And so it proved. But I covered a lot of ground and surmounted a lot of obstacles before I came to that road. I had to strike across several farms, negotiate a brook and beat off the interested approaches of a large black dog before I struck a little side road, running in the general direction I wanted. I followed this for miles as it seemed. But at last it turned south a little and presently ran into another larger road, running about northeast by southwest. This road, too, was deserted. So far I had encountered not a soul, which was not difficult to understand, as it must have been about four o’clock in the morning. But the thought of the time made me realize suddenly the danger of being caught anywhere near the house when dawn came. It was late in November and would not be light until after seven. But it would be light enough to see long before that. So, keeping close to the edge of the road and as much as possible in the shadow, I set out to put a lot of distance between myself and the house of orgies. The night was pretty cold and I had no hat and no overcoat. The frock-coat I wore was little protection, and I had been thoroughly chilled both in my prison and in my wait on the bluff. So I set myself to run to get warm as well as to make better speed. I broke into a sort of dog-trot, not difficult to keep up for a considerable time and fairly efficient in covering ground rapidly. And so, keeping in the shadow and resting every now and then, I proceeded in the general direction of New York for the better part of an hour. But I felt as if the entire population of the world had been wiped out by some catastrophe; for there was no living thing about me anywhere. I met no one and saw no one. There was not even a light in the few houses I passed. And the muffled beat of my own feet on the soft dirt road was the only sound in my ears. At last I heard an asthmatic coughing behind me, with the unmistakable chug of a Ford engine. I drew into the shadow of a tree and waited. It might be pursuit. But somehow I did not connect the thought of a Ford with my late hosts. At any rate I determined to take a chance, and as the little car drew closer I stepped into the middle of the road, so that the lights shone on me, and held up my hand. At first the driver tried to go around me. But I jumped in front again and prevented that maneuver, so that he was forced to draw up, his engine buzzing like a swarm of angry bees in the silence. “What do you want, anyhow?” came an angry, suspicious voice. “For heaven’s sake, man, give me a lift, will you?” I answered. “My car broke down back there in the wilds hours ago, and I’ve been tramping this road ever since trying to find my bearings and get back to town. Can you set me down somewhere near a railway station?”