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 course. Felix had strapped the tent on one of the running-boards, and on the other, blankets and cooking equipment. At close range the car resembled a small burro, one of those pathetic-looking little beasts of burden used on mountain trails, hung with huge side-baskets. A silver-gray burro, for it was covered with dust, the bright black coat of enamel Felix had given it, entirely obliterated. He must stop and clean her up a little, he guessed, before he got to the sanitarium. And himself too, for that matter. The roads had been terribly dry.

'Say,' he called out lustily to a group of people on the front porch of the hotel, 'is this the road to Avidon's?'

A sensation as if she were dropping in a runaway elevator shot through Sheilah. The voice sounded so like Felix's. But of course it couldn't be. The elevator assumed its normal speed.

'This is Avidon's,' Roger beside her called out cheerily.

'This Avidon's?' the voice insisted. And again the elevator shot down with Sheilah.

'Yes. This is Avidon's. This is right,' several voices replied.

Felix stopped the sputtering engine (better get out and make certain, he guessed), opened the door,