Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-12-18

some distance off in the trees There a large
blue touring car was leisurely rolling into
view, in charge of bareheaded man, a fine
but bored appearing young viking, who was
driving about alone.
Thurley, watching. felt a sudden splash of
rain which brought her to her feet with quick
decision to move to better shelter; but the
shower broke almost instantly, quite I'M
heralded as if it had spilled through sieve.
1t was one of those downpours, swift and
violent, against which an umbrella is prac-
tically no protection. Thurley raised her
silken tent at once, however, and fled to the
base of a tree, still watching the car in the
road.
The driver, she noted, was clean sllaven,
broad shouldered, and ruddy. He was OBJ
viously disturbed by the drenching of robe
in the rear of his car, and cast a quick look
upward at the sky. Making a momentary
squirt, as if to race and so abbreviate his dis
comfort, or concern, he abruptly altered his
mind, hating the car not fifty feet from the
place where Thurley stood. Then, attempt
ing to leap out hurriedly, over his levers and
the casing for extra tires, he was tnpped and
thrown with exceptional violence, landing
face downward in the road with an arm
crumpled awkwardly beneath him.
THURLEY uttered little cry, to see him
plunge so heavily on his under-twisted
hand. She moved a few steps forward in the
rain. He scrambled at once to his feet and
turned, his face tensely drawn and excess
lively white, his left hand clinging to his linn
Der right wrist as he weakly reeled back
against the car.
That the man was in agony was obvious.
The eloquence of pain was in his poise. He
could barely stand. The rain beat down on
him savagely.
Out across the intervening space Thurley
ran without a moments hesitation. Her
umbrella was raised and rain was bouncing
from its roof.
YOU'RE hurt" she said as she came to
the car. Perhaps there is something can
do"
The man had seen her coming. He gazed
at her mutely for moment, his lips COM
pressed with pain. Its broken" he said,
"my wrist"
Thurley had come sufficiently close to hold
her umbrella above him. 1t had all been
done in obedience to something impulsive in
her nature. The man was suffering intensely.
She had utterly forgotten herself
"Tell me what to do" she said in her
earnest manner. II know it pains you hor-
ribly. What shall do to he1p?"
He tried to smile, then closed his eyes,
leaning heavily against lLe WHICH,, d 1IluSCle
twitching near his mouth. The rain entirely
ceased, as abruptly as it had come.
Il suppose I'll have to let some one drive
me home" he said, struggling with culver
of pain in all his being; but hardly like to
impose upon you, to ask you to look me up
man."
Couldn't 1 drive you to the nearest re-
lief?" asked Thurley simply. at might
take so long to find help!"
He looked at her curiously. His eyes, de-
spite his hurt, burned warmly in tribute to
her beauty. He thought he had never in his
life beheld face so nearly divine. And in
deed, as Thurley stood there by his car, TN
consciously sublimated by her sympathy,
she presented vision that for sheer sweet
loneliness could scarcely have been matched
in all the world.
"You-drive?" he said, with no attempt
to conceal an astonished incredulity. "Do
you mean that you could really take the
wheel?"
"Oh, yes, if you need me, need my help"
she answered readily. 1t can't be very far,
I'm sure, to place where-where of course
you will do much better" She hesitated,
looking at him gravely, adding, Il couldn't
do less. knew you were hurt. | couldn't