Page:Ruth of the U.S.A. (IA ruthofusa00balm).pdf/290

 was advising her how to run the roads back of the battle lines. Thus as the car went over she sprang back and knelt on the floor between the seats.

The driver fought for an instant, foolishly, to bring the car back onto the road; then he flung himself forward and down in front of his seat. Von Forstner, who had grabbed at Ruth too late, had been held standing up when the car turned over. He tried to get down. Ruth could feel him—she could not look up—as he tumbled half upon her, half beside her. She heard him scream—a frightful, hoarse man's scream of mad rage as he saw he was caught. Then the car was all the way over; it crushed, scraped, slid, swung, turned over; was on its wheels for a flash; at least air and light were above again; it pounded, smashed, and slid through brush, against small trees; and was over once more. It ground and skewed in soft soil, horribly; cold water splashed below it. It settled, sucking, and stopped.

The sound of water washing against metal; for a moment the hiss of the water on the hot engine; then only the gurgle and rush of the little brook.

Ruth lay upon her back in the stream with the floor of the car above her; below her was von Forstner's form, and about him were the snapped ribs of the top with the fabric like a black shroud.

At first he was alive and his face was not under water; for he shouted frantic oaths, threats, appeals for help. Wildly he cursed Ruth; his back was broken, he said. He seemed to struggle at first, not so much to free himself as to grasp and choke her. Then the back of the car dammed the water and it rose above his face. He coughed