All the while Theodora was anxiously whispering: "Who is it?
Who is it?
Oh, let me see!" "Don't try to look," Catherine answered earnestly, as she leaped to the floor.

"Doad, we must get out if we can." She threw herself at the door again and tried to pull it open; Theodora joined her, but even together they could not stir it.
Meanwhile the "saloon" swayed and jolted over the rough road; to keep from pitching headlong from side to side the girls had to sit down on the sacks.

Their one consoling thought was that, if they could not get out, their captor, whoever he was, could not get in.
They were a little cheered, too, when they realized that the wagon was apparently following the road that led toward home.

But when they had gone about three or four miles and had come to the branch road that led to Lurvey's Mills, they felt the old "saloon" turn off from the main road.

With sinking hearts they struggled again to open the door, until, weak and exhausted, they gave up.
Theodora was limp with terror at their plight.