“I suppose you meant that for a compliment,” she said, “but you don’t quite understand the art.  It requires a certain delicacy—­”

“Such as Paul Hastings might have,” sneered Sid.

Cora felt that she could not bear with him a moment longer.

“I have a purchase to make here,” she said with as much frigidness in her tones as she could call up.  “I’ll not ask you to wait,” and she stopped the car in front of a dress-goods store.

“Oh, it’s no trouble to wait.”

“I’d rather you wouldn’t.”

“Well, I will.”  He was smiling now.  “I never like to leave a young lady when she is in a—­temper.”

Cora was positively angry.  But again came that detestation of making a scene, which every well-bred girl feels, no matter how strong the provocation.  She would make a purchase to gain time, and then turn back to the bank building.

She bought something she was in no need of, and prolonged the transaction to an interminable length, to the no small disgust of the salesgirl.  When she got back to the machine, Sid was smiling more broadly than before.

He had taken her place at the wheel.

“You won’t mind me driving as far as the bank building, will you?” he said.  “I really must get a new car.  I miss mine so much, and it’s in bad shape since you—­er—­tried to smash me.”

“I did nothing of the sort.  It was your own fault.”

“There, there,” he said soothingly.  “We mustn’t quarrel.”

Cora felt herself growing pale.  She repressed a stinging reply, and without a word took a seat in the tonneau.

“Oh, so you won’t sit beside me?” he asked as he started the car.  “What makes you dislike me so, Cora?  You and I used to pull a pretty good stroke, but lately you simply won’t look at me.”

“I don’t dislike you.  At least, I did not until this morning.”

“Still angry,” he taunted.  “Now, I call that mean.  Why do you go off riding with a common mechanic?”

“Mr. Hastings is a gentleman!” she flared back at him, like an explosion of one of the cylinders of her car.  “He would never dream of acting as you are now, even if he is a common mechanic.”

“No?”

His tone was tantalizing.

“Please turn this corner,” she said icily.  “I want to get back to the bank building.”

“Oh, do you?  Well, I’m in no hurry to.  I can’t seem to do any business there, or in the automobile place,” and he flashed a meaning look at the girl.  “Now we’ll see, Miss Cora, who’s going to have their own way.  I’m driving this car.”

He threw in the second speed gear, and the auto dashed forward through the city streets.

Had he suddenly gone mad?  What was his object?  He was heading for the turnpike road!

For a few moments Cora held her breath.  Should she shout for help, no matter what happened?

Then the fact of her unfortunate entanglement with the missing money came to her mind.