THE RUNAWAY ROAD
in a Thunder-Storm.' Of course, as I say, I have n't found a lot of things yet, but then it's only the middle of June and I have two more weeks vacation yet."
The Man put back his head and laughed, but it was a pleasant sort of laugh that flooded all the stern lines in his face.
"I'm sure I never thought of making a regular business of collecting adventures," he admitted, "but it certainly is a splendid idea. But are n't you ever afraid?" he asked. "Aren't you ever afraid, for instance, riding round on a lonesome trip like this?"
The Girl laughed. "Yes," she acknowledged, "I'm often afraid of—squirrels—and falling twigs—and black-looking stumps. I'm often afraid of toy noises and toy fears—but I never saw a real fear in all my life. Even when you jumped up in the Road I was n't afraid of you—because you are a gentleman—and—gentlemen are my friends."
"Have you many friends?" asked the Man. The question seemed amusingly justifiable. "You look to me about eighteen. Girls of your age are usually too busy collecting Love to collect anything else—even ideas. Have you collected any Love?"
The Girl threw out her hands in joking protest. "Collected any Love? Why, I don't even know
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