Westerfelt pretended not to see him as he passed, but he urged Jake to hurry up and get out his horse and buggy.  He had a strange idea that it would humiliate him in Harriet’s eyes to be seen by her as she passed with a man he now regarded as a rival.  He would have given much to have had any sort of companion with him.  Jake had some difficulty in backing the horse into the shafts, and before Westerfelt could get started, he saw Harriet come out on the veranda and follow Bates to his buggy.  However, Westerfelt managed to get started before they did, and drove on without looking back.  Knowing that Bates was fond of fast driving, and fearing that he might overtake him, Westerfelt drove rapidly.  The fires of jealousy were raging within him.  He told himself that it would be a long time before he would ask her again to go with him anywhere, and during that drive he almost convinced himself that he could give her up without much regret.  He was sure Bates wanted to marry her.  Such a stolid, matter-of-fact man would never visit a girl with less serious intentions.  Bates, of course, was ignorant of the girl’s early love for Wambush.  He wondered if she would ever confess to the lawyer as she had to him.  He thought it unlikely; for he had found it out and mentioned it to her first, and, besides, her experience with him had taught her discretion.  Westerfelt would have been more generous in his estimation of her character had he been less jealous, and less angered by the disappointment of not being her escort.  People driving slow teams looked at him curiously as he dashed past them.  He had but one desire at that moment, and that was not to face Harriet and Bates together.

The road, near the camp-ground, went through a dense wood, and was so narrow that vehicles could not pass one another on it.  In the narrowest part of this road Westerfelt was forced to stop.  A wagon filled with women and children, and driven by old John Wambush, had halted in front of him.

“What’s the matter?” Westerfelt called out to the old man, who had got down beside his horses and was peering at the motionless line of vehicles ahead.

“A hack’s broke down,” the old fellow replied.  “Nobody hurt, it seems, but the banks on both sides is so steep that they cayn’t cleer the road.  We’ll have to take our time.  I’d jest about as soon set heer in my wagon as to listen to them long-winded preachers, anyway.”

Westerfelt heard the beat of hoofs behind him.  He was sure Bates and Harriet were approaching, but he dared not look around.  Through the trees came the sound of singing from the camp-ground.  The horse behind got nearer and nearer, till it stopped with its nose in the back part of Westerfelt’s buggy, Westerfelt did not turn his head.  He leaned over the dash-board and impatiently called out to old Wambush: 

“How long are they going to keep us?”