“Where ith thith Lonethome Cove?” questioned Tommy.  “I don’t like the thound of the name.”

“You will like it when you get there,” answered the guardian.  “But I said I would not tell you anything about it.  Time enough when we reach there.  You shall then see for yourselves.  You are going too fast, Jane.”

“I’d like to reach there some time before morning.  The road is clear and level.  I’m going only twenty miles an hour, as it is.  That’s just a creeping pace, you know,” reassured Jane.

“Yes, I know,” answered the guardian, with a shake of her head.  They continued on, but without much conversation, for Jane was busy watching the road, her companions keeping a sharp lookout for the turns.  They had already passed two roads that led off to the right.  The next, according to their informant, would be the one for them to take to reach the Lonesome Cove.

“Here is the third turn,” announced Jane finally, bringing her car to a stop.  The highway on which they had been riding was shaded with second-growth trees, as was the intersecting road.  The latter was narrow; but, from Jane’s investigations, she having stepped down to examine it, it was hard though not well-traveled.  “Have you been here before, Miss Elting?”

“No, Jane; I have not.  Go ahead and drive carefully, for I hardly think it a main road.”

“It’s a good one, whether it is a main road or not.”

They moved on down the side road, and, gaining confidence as they progressed, Jane McCarthy let out a notch at a time until she was traveling at a fairly high rate of speed.  Their way wound in and out among the small trees and bushes that bordered the road, the latter narrowing little by little until there was barely room for turning out in case they were to meet another vehicle.  However, there seemed little chance of that.  The motor car appeared to be the only vehicle abroad that night.

The road now was so dark that it was only by glancing up at the tops of the bordering trees, outlined against the sky, that the driver of the car was able to keep well in the middle of it.  She was straining her eyes, peering into the darkness ahead.

“How far?” demanded Jane shortly, never removing her gaze from the trees and the roadway.

“We must be near the place.  Surely it cannot be far now,” answered the guardian.  “I thought we should have seen a light before this.”

“We’re coming into the open,” broke in Jane.  “I’m glad of that.  Now we needn’t be afraid of running into the trees or the fences, if there are any along the track.  I can’t make out the sides of the road at all.  I—­”

A sudden and new sound cut short her words.  The girls, realizing that something unusual was occurring, fell suddenly silent.  The roadway beneath them gave off a hollow sound, as if they were going over a bridge.  The fringe of trees had fallen away, while all about them was what appeared to be a darkened plain or field.  Yet strain their eyes as they would, the travelers were unable to distinguish the character of their surroundings, though Harriet Burrell, with chin elevated, had been sniffing the air suspiciously.