The engine boiled and Barry stopped, once more to huddle against the radiator, and to avail himself of its warmth, but not to renew the water.

No stream was near; besides, the cold blast of the wind, shrilling through the open hood, accomplished the purpose more easily.

Again a sally and again a stop.

And Barry was thankful, as, huddled and shivering in his light clothing, he once more sought the radiator.

Vaguely there came to him the thought that he might spend the night somewhere on the Pass and go on with the flush of morning.