"It fell," Alice said stupidly.
"I don't see how it could."
"But it fell."
"Did you hear anything?"
"I heard it fall."
"No. Afterward?"
Alice shook her head. "What do you mean?"
"I dunno," Fred said uneasily. "I thought ... it was upstairs."
They were talking fast, almost in whispers. Now Innes stirred.
"Is ever3rthing in the car?" he said with sudden strength.
"You'd better rest," warned Alice. "Good heavens, that was an awful shock. I . . . I'm shaking."
Fred kicked the metal lamp base.
"Doctor," Alice said to him, aside, and he gave her a look and went swiftly away.
Alice wished afterward that she had not urged Innes back into the sitting room, but she did, and got him seated. She was afraid he might be sick again, but color had come back to his face and he looked somewhat better.
"What on earth"—Gertrude was holding her hand to her heart in the dooray—"crashed so? Innes, are you there?" She seemed to have lost her sure sense of her surroundings in the excitement.
"It was the lamp falling," Alice said. "It's all right. No one was hurt. Miss Whitlock."
"What a dreadful crash!" she said.
"The lamp's broken." Isabel stood beside her, edging, with her tendency to go sidewise, through ahead of her. Her complaining voice seemed to hold a little anger. "Mama's big lamp from the upstairs table. I was in the kitchen. Josephine has gone out!"—as if this were outrage. "What happened, Alice?"
"I really don't know. Miss Isabel," Alice said shortly.
"Innes . . . ?"
Innes said, "It didn't hit me. So it's aU right."
"What's going on?" Maud's masculine tones broke in upon them. "Say, who busted the lamp? It's all over the floor."
Everybody shrugged.
Maud looked at Innes with her sly little eyes. "You feeling better?" she said.
"I feel much better," Innes said vigorously. "A little shock like that seems to have been just what I needed. Where's Fred? I feel much stronger. We must go."
"He . . ." Alice began and stopped, for Fred was back; and since he told her with a glance that he had missed the Doctor, she saw no reason to upset the Misses Whitlock again. "Here he is, now. But are you sure you're all right, Innes?"
"Yes," said Innes, "I'm all right."
Josephine came into view in the hall, wearing her coat, with a newspaper-wrapped package held across her body like a shield. Stie looked dazed.
"Where have you been?" wailed Isabel.
But Innes got jerkily up and blundered across the room.
''Good-by, Gertrude, Maud, Isabel. Thanks for everything. I'll write you. But remember"—he spoke rapidly as that he can be quite comfortable at this camp. And you will be with him, Miss Brennan."
"Yes," said Alice doubtfully. She felt unselfish devotion was being put upon her.
if to get this said before his strength failed—"about the accounts. I meant that. I'll send a man up from the office. He'll go over everything with you. Mind you show him everything. And I must have your powers of attorney. Thanks, agam. Good-by."
Alice said, "Good-by." She smiled valiantly at Isabel and Maud. Gertrude's hand she pressed briefly. It was a sketchy leave-taking on her part, and although she seemed caught up in Innes's fervor to get away and therefore rushed and pressed by his hurry, the brevity of her farewells was her own idea.
She felt she'd had enough of the Whitlock sisters.
The Whitlock girls did not stand on the doorstep to wish their guests Godspeed. The tall front doors closed. The tall facade was a pale mask in the dark. Fred helped Innes into the tonneau and wrapped him well.
"The air in your face, sir?"
"Yes, that would be good."
Fred turned down the window. Alice felt rather useless. ''Shall I sit in front?" she said, "You want to be quiet, don't you, Innes?"
Innes seemed too exhatisted to do more than murmur consent. But it was consent. He seemed more himself, even in this collapsed state, than he had seemed at any time in his sisters' house. At least he was Innes Whitlock, who knew he didn't want to talk. There he had not been himself nor anything else, but a man looking for a role to act and not finding it.
The car moved away softly, a cradle on wheels for its master.
"She seems to be running sweet again," Alice said. "What was the matter with her, Fred?"
"You wouldn't know if I told you.''
"No. I suppose I wouldn't." Her mind was somewhere else already. "Do you know, Fred, you moved awful fast in there. You were quite a hero."
"Nuts," he said.
"Maybe you saved his life."
"Look," he said, "if you see something's going to faU on somebody unless you push them, you push them. It's a reflex."
"A what?"
"What the hell?" Fred said. Alice wiggled herself back in the seat as they drifted gently down the hilL
"How do we go? Over that pit?"
"Yup. Have to, to get on number six."
"I hope we go over it faster than we came." Alice shivered.
The car answered her, picking up speed. Ogaunee street lights were few and far between, and dim at that. They turned left, away from Main Street, where they had never yet been. Innes was a limp bimdle behind them. Alice felt a pricking of her nerves and a wish to get over the pit and on the highway, settled into their pace and done with Ogaunee. She scarcely saw what they were passing. She was listening for the hum of power, trying to recapture the mood for distance and the free feeling of being on the way to somewhere else.
Fred's arm went across in front of her like an iron bar.
"Watchit!" With his other hand he spun the wheel. The car's nose turned and tilted. They were headed for the stars. The brakes screamed. Only Fred's arm kept Alice out of the windshield. The car stalled, shivered. Something hit Alice on the back of her head. She heard a crash, like an echo, without any sense of pressure. Then the night was still, for a moment.
People's voices. Feet running. Weight on her back. Fred was swearing monotonously. Alice reahzed that she wasn't hurt, that the weight on her back was Innes, flung like a sack over the back of the front seat. He had been lying limp, and the sudden stop had flung him forward like a stone out of a sling. Fred was lifting him away.
Somehow or other Alice found herself kneeling on the tilted floor of the tonneau, wiping a trickle of blood from
Innes's chin. His eyes were open, but he didn't speak and seemed nearly unconscious. People had come out of the quiet town like worms out of the ground after a rain. They were milling around the car. Out of all their voices Alice heard one thread of talk, loud and clear, as if the audible equivalent of a spotlight were on it
A man said, "How'd they miss the turn? Musta missed the turn, didn't they?"
"Say, you shouldn't come down here, driver. This road's been closed off."
Fred's angry voice: "Why in hell don't you put up a sign, then?"
"Whatdya mean? There's a sawhorse across the end."
"There is, eh?"
"Detour. That's what it says."
"Yeah?"
''This road goes off into the pit."
Fred said sarcastically, "That's why I stopped, bud."
"Good thing you stopped," somebody said.
"Show me that sign."
A woman said in Alice's ear, "Is he hurt, dear? Are you hurt, dear? The doctor's coming. How do you feel dear?" Alice shook her head. The voice receded.
Some man said in an excited way, "Say, the sawhorse ain't across the road now."
"Where is it?"
"It's across the main road!"
"What? What did he say?"
"Somebody moved the sign."
"The detour sign?"
"Yeah, moved it. Put it across the main road."
"For God's sake! Who done that?"
"Some fool kids ..."
"Say, that's dangerous!"
"Who'd do a thing like that?"
"They mighta been killed!"
"Yessir, that's dangerous."
"Might have gone right over."
"He don't know the road."
"Pretty near did."
"Might have been killed!"
"Whoever done a thing like that?"