“My car is much faster than any of theirs,” insinuated that young lady. “Yeah? That’s right. I’ll take it. Go get it for me, Lainy, like a nice girl. Manuel, you wait here. Go and get something to eat. _Mucho dinero_ coming to you, old kid.” Elaine brought her car around in front. “You can’t drive and shift gears with one hand,” she pointed out, making no effort to get away from the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive you as far as the bridge.” Her brother, knowing her full well, looked at her with deep suspicion. “You will? And then what will you do? Holy cats! There go two more cars! I’ve missed the first bunch-- All right, you drive me to the bridge. Catch up with Bill Carter if you can. Then you turn around and come back, you hear me?” “Yes, dear,” Elaine answered meekly, so meekly that Webb looked at her grimly and said: “I mean it, sis.” Without any further discussion Elaine devoted her attention to the wheel; the roadster not only caught up to Captain Carter’s load of doughboys but passed them, long before the bridge was in sight, and raced on ahead. The bridge was three or four feet under water. Generally the little stream that came slipping down from the hills was quiet and peaceful, but a cloudburst had made it a roaring torrent. There was a foot-bridge about a mile up, connecting the walls of a narrow deep canon from which the stream issued to the valley below. It wasn’t much of a bridge, being used by men going up in the hills who did not want to circle the valley. The water had not nearly reached it, and as Elaine stopped at the edge of the flood-water, she pointed it out. “Go right ahead, Mr. Webb. There’s your bridge up there on the right.” “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,” chuckled Webb. “I’ll wait for Bill and his cohorts.” He didn’t have long to wait, for they arrived about two minutes later. Carter smiled cheerfully at Elaine. “Hullo, Lainy! Going in as Red Cross?” “No, I am not,” answered Elaine hotly. “I’m going home. This darn’ old brother of mine wont let me.” “That’s where he shows sense for once. Come on, you terries--show me something! Sergeant Bate, detail four men to stay with the cars. Let’s go!” The other cars had arrived and unloaded. “Well,” said Elaine bitterly, to anyone who cared to listen, as she watched Captain Carter, her brother and some fifty infantrymen start for the bridge in what looked more like a free-for-all race than an orderly advance, “I’ll never forgive that John Webb or that Bill Carter, either!” She started her car, turned, waved good-bye to the four disgruntled doughboys left behind, and headed for the Fort.