Читать книгу Greycliff Heroines - Harriet Pyne Grove - Страница 4

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So far, the weather had been ideal for the drive to New York. It was warm but not too warm. The roads were well dried off from recent showers, but not dusty, and the country looked fresh and green. They had stopped in some of the most delightful places their guests had ever seen, and the young people had made one long picnic of the whole trip, after their exciting day in Boston. Philip joked Campbell in private about the “Hilaryous” time he was having and Campbell retorted with a conundrum, “Why are you like a sailor?”

“The answer has something to do with ‘North,’ I suppose?”

Campbell nodded.

“Because my compass always points to the ‘North’?”

“That would be very good,” assented Campbell, “but I was thinking—because you always know where the North is.”

“What a pity that Aunt Sylvia and the girls have to miss our brilliant punning!”

But in spite of the special attraction which Hilary had for Campbell, and Lilian had for Philip, the gentlemen of the party were attentive to all the ladies, as they should be, and cheerfully performed the duties which naturally fell to them in the absence of the chauffeur.

On this occasion they were picnicking. They had stopped at a farmhouse to buy corn and melons, and had also found fresh cookies and a big, warm apple pie. Philip, Campbell and the girls came back to the car with hands full.

“I got some of the thickest cream, Mother,” called Cathalina, “and the farmer’s wife made fresh coffee for us.” Cathalina held up two thermos bottles with triumph, and began to sing, “The farmer in the dell, the farmer in the dell! High, ho, the Derry, O, the farmer in the dell!” She had never been real sure of the words, but that made no difference!

“Hush, Kittens,” said Philip, who was always evolving some new nickname for his sister. He was beginning to hand his bundles to Lilian, who had climbed into the car. “The man directed us, Mother, to a place where there is spring water that he says is all right. Say! Campbell, why didn’t I think to buy a chicken?”

“Oh, we don’t want one,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk. “It would take too long to cook it. You can roast or boil the corn in a jiffy. By the way, did they have fresh butter?”

“Oodles,” said Philip. “I saw them doing up a little pat for Cathalina in a clean cloth and some oiled paper!”

“If I hadn’t seen those chickens in time up the road—” began Campbell, and the rest started to laugh.

“That fat old hen that decided to cross the road just before we got to her would have been about the right size.”

“Too tough, Campbell,” said Betty, laughing.

“I saw a man just out of Boston,” remarked Philip, “that had chicken sense.”

“What sort of sense is that?” inquired his mother.

“Same kind that Campbell tells about. Concluded he wanted to cross just before we got there, couldn’t have waited till we passed, and I honked and put on the brakes just in time! It’s a sort of disturbance of the mental gearing, I guess. Seeing the machine makes them think of trouble.”

“I remember the incident,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk. “But we have to be ready for things like that. It’s the easiest thing in the world to blame the pedestrian. But I was brought up in the good old days of the carriages that we had up to about ten years ago, and we were trained to protect the people on foot.”

“Hear, hear!” said Philip as he started the car. “Everybody hold on to the lunch. It’s just around the curve in the road, I believe.”

In a few minutes, Philip turned the machine into the shade of some trees and bushes by the roadside, while they looked up a gently rising little hill to a tangled wood and a succession of ravines and hills.

“This looks good, plenty of wood for a fire, a cleared space in front, and stony. I suppose the spring is back farther. Think you can get up there, Mother?”

“It will certainly be a pity if I can’t,” replied his mother. “You just watch me! Come on, Campbell, give me a hand and we will hunt for the spring. I can carry that little hamper, too.”

“Indeed not, Mother,” replied Philip. “I’m convinced. You need not prove your prowess further! We’ll bring all the stuff up while you hunt for water. This is the Swiss Family Robinson! Can you tell, Hilary, by the bark, whether a banana tree is bearing cocoanuts this year or not?”

“One thing we can do, Philip,” said Betty—“make clothing for the family out of the skins of all the wild animals you and Campbell catch!”

“Look out, there!” cried Philip suddenly, and he reached out a hand to pull Lilian toward the car. She had gotten out on the side next the road and was gathering together some of their wraps and packages. With one wild honk, a car whizzed around the corner, balanced on its outer wheels, continued a little further and stopped. It was a large car like their own, with only one occupant, a man who was having trouble with his engine. It puffed and snorted for a while, but the girls and Philip did not wait to see the outcome when they saw that the car had not turned over. With their lunch, and various comforts in the way of robes and wraps to sit on, they pursued their way toward the woods, after Philip had closed and locked the car.

“Did you find the spring, Mother?” asked Philip. “I must needs bathe my fevered brow.”

“It is only a few steps down the side of the ravine,” replied Mrs. Van Buskirk, pointing. “All of you will want a cool drink, as Campbell and I did. This is a beautiful place for a picnic. I’m glad we came around this way. How did you happen to know about this road? It isn’t on the map.”

“Pat pointed it out as we came from home and said that there was a way to get through here, but not many tourists used the road because it was not good in some places, and especially bad in wet weather. If it had rained, I would not have brought you here. But I thought we could just about do it and make our next stopping place by night.”

While this conversation was going on the girls were preparing the eatables and the boys gathering sticks for the fire. All the accompaniments for a picnic lunch were contained in the Van Buskirk car. It was an easy matter to serve it. But to save time, most of their meals on the way were taken in hotels or tea rooms along the roads.

As the picnickers were enjoying their lunch, the man of the car below came up the hill with a cup, and inquired of Philip where the spring was located. Philip rose and showed him the place, asking if he needed any help on his car.

“I was going to ask you if you can loan me a few tools,” replied the man, “but I did not like to call you away till you had finished your lunch.”

“Oh, that is no matter,” and Philip went down hill to find one or two small implements that the man told him he lacked. “Just leave them on the step,” said Philip, “when you are through.”

“Funny looking customer,” remarked Campbell, when Philip came back.

“He was real polite, though,” said Betty.

“Do you suppose he will put the tools back?” asked Mrs. Van Buskirk.

“I guess so. He had almost everything he needed himself. His tire seems to be punctured and he is fixing it up.”

“Why doesn’t he put on a new one?” inquired Cathalina.

“Possibly he hasn’t any, or wants to be economical. Shall I go down and ask him?”

“You seem to be getting sarcastic, Philly,” was Cathalina’s comment. “I don’t blame you, though. Who can eat this last ear of corn? Going, going—gone!” and Cathalina put it on Philip’s picnic plate. “We ate more while you were gone. Now it’s time for pie. Mother, there’s more coffee for you, and, Lilian, you positively must finish up this marmalade you like. Campbell, can’t you eat another cookie? A New England cookie? a spice cookie? a crisp brown cookie?”

“Sounds like lines from the ‘Old Oaken Bucket,’” said Campbell, “but if I am to eat a piece of apple pie, I must positively refuse to take anything else. The ‘little birdies’ will eat it, Cousin. Lilian, can’t you compose an ode to ‘The Last Cookie’?”

“’Twas the last cookie in the hamper,” began Lilian in song, “left cru-hum-bling a-a-a-a-lone! All its—I fear me that the tune of the ‘Last Rose of Summer’ is a little intricate at this stage! May I have my piece of pie?”

“Pie it is,” answered Philip, as he took Lilian’s plate.

The party took its time over the dessert, much spring water, and the gathering up of impedimenta. While they were thus engaged, they heard the engine of their neighbor below start, a honk from his horn, and looked up to see him wave and call, “Thank you.” He looked back once with a broad grin upon his face, then disappeared in a cloud of gasoline smoke.

“That was a funny performance,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk. “I thought his face ugly enough before, but that grin was positively malicious. I suppose he has gone off with your tools, Philip.”

Philip was really annoyed at this implication of his carelessness, but was too courteous always to his mother to show it much.

“I guess we’ll find ’em all right, Mother,” he replied.

As they went down the hill to the car, they noticed a decided cooling of the atmosphere with the passing of the afternoon.

“Do you think that we will get in early enough, Philip?”

“Yes, Mother, and the night will be beautiful, moonlight still. We ought to make a hundred miles easily after we get out on the main road, and that will take us into a good town, though there are some fair little villages along. No, thanks, Campbell, I’ll drive till we get out of this hilly place. I know the car a little better.”

Everybody climbed in but Philip, who had picked up the borrowed tools from the step with an air of triumph, and paraded them before his mother and Cathalina. He took a last look at the tires and stepped around behind the car—when they heard him exclaim in surprise. “The scoundrel!” he said.

“Why, what’s the matter, Philip?”

“That thief has helped himself to our extra tire! That is why he gave us that farewell grin! Wait till I catch up with him!” Philip hurried into the car and made ready to start.

“Wait, Philip,” said Campbell. “Are you sure that our tires are all right? He would know, of course, that the first thing you would want to do would be to catch him or get to a telephone.”

“Telephoning would not do any good. He’ll keep to out of the way places and go around the towns. I bet that his car is a stolen one!”

Both Campbell and Philip got out, and went around to look closely at tires and wheels. “I can’t find a thing out of the way,” said Campbell.

“I thought they were all right when I looked before,” said Philip.

“Do be sure about it,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk anxiously, and the girls leaned out with faces showing concern.

“Maybe he has put a few tacks around,” suggested Campbell, beginning to look along the ground. “Perhaps he thought we would start, though, without finding out about the theft. The back of the car was so concealed by those bushes.”

“I wish I had thought to have the whole car where we could see it from where we were! Chicken sense! Chicken sense!”

At this the girls exploded into laughter, while Mrs. Van Buskirk reached out to pat Philip’s sleeve and say “Never mind, son, we can’t think of everything.”

“Oh, yes, Mother, you are very fine about it, but I know you are thinking how I just shook those tools in your face!” Philip was rather enjoying the joke on himself now. “That chap thought that we’d never notice if he left the tools all right.”

“Drive carefully, Philip, for fear the man did do something to the car.”

“I will, Mother.”

They started down the hill, around curves, across little bridges, where the narrow road like a ribbon wound in and out.

“Suppose the man had trouble again and we should catch up with him,” suggested Betty. “What would we do?”

“Not a thing, Betty,” replied Philip. “He would have a gun. The only way we could really catch him and get our tire would be to get the police after him at some place on the route. You girls need not worry. We are not anxious to take you into trouble. I only want to get on the main road before we have anything happen to a tire.”

“And we are one hundred miles from a town!” said Mrs. Van Buskirk.

“Oh, no, Mother. You are thinking of what I said; but, remember, I mentioned villages. It isn’t that far from a place where we could stay, and I think that it is only a few miles from a village where I could get a tire, or have something fixed if necessary. See, we are in sight of the main road now.”

Philip had scarcely spoken when there was a loud report—then a second.

“There are the tacks, Philip,” said Campbell. “The villain’s plot is bared!”

“Melodrama!” said Lilian.

The girls as well as the boys left the car to examine the road where the two tires had been punctured. “Glass and all sorts of sharp things,” said Philip. “He must go prepared for occasions like this. See? All this never came here by chance.”

Campbell walked over to the other side of the road. “Nothing here,” he reported. “But it was made sure that on the other side we couldn’t miss it.”

“Perhaps since we had been kind,” suggested Mrs. Van Buskirk, “he wouldn’t leave us stranded up in the hills, and let us come nearer civilization before our tires were punctured.”

“You would be bound to find some good in him, Mother,” said Philip. “Do we go forward on rims, or do we patch up? Two tires!”

Campbell was already getting out the “first aid” equipment. “He knew we’d need the things he borrowed, all right!” said he. “Come on, Phil, we may as well get to work. You ladies can enjoy the beauties of nature for the next hour or so. Get out your field glasses, Hilary. I heard a grasshopper sparrow over in that field.”

The girls scattered, Hilary and Lilian with the field glasses, Cathalina and Betty to look for wild flowers, while Mrs. Van Buskirk hunted out a book from the luggage. The two young mechanics worked busily, having taken the machine on beyond the possibility of another puncture. The “villain” had contented himself with preparing the one place for trouble.

“Say, Phil,” said Campbell, suddenly, “have you looked to see whether we have enough gas?”

“You haven’t forgotten, have you, that we just got a supply at the little town before we struck this road?”

“No, I haven’t, but you forget our friend who needed the tire. Perhaps he needed some gas, too.”

Philip finished the particular detail he was on with only the laconic remark, “Chicken sense,” and then started an investigation of the tank, with Campbell as an interested spectator and assistant. “You’re right. He needed almost all of it. But I think that there is enough, with that little can that Mother always insists we take along, to get us where we can fill up again. Mother, here is where your forethought gets the applause.”

Mrs. Van Buskirk smiled and placidly read on.

Finally the work was done. Philip and Campbell gave the whistles of their college fraternity, to call the wandering girls, and the party once more were off. The car ran easily, and the gasoline lasted until they reached the first town, which, fortunately, happened to be of a fair size, and Philip thought that he could find another tire there to replace the stolen one. But just as they turned into the street where they had been told the shop they were seeking was located, they saw a small crowd gathered about a machine a short distance ahead.

“It’s our man!” exclaimed Philip, and he brought up his car to the curb not far from the source of excitement. He and Campbell lost no time in arriving on the scene, while the girls and Mrs. Van Buskirk watched with interest.

“They’re taking him out of the car!” said Betty.

“Yes; see those two policemen?”

“I suppose that is the sheriff.”

“Philip’s talking to him. I wonder if we’ll have to wait for a trial or anything.”

“Mercy, no. At least, I hope not.”

“Look, there is a nice looking gentleman there—I wonder who he is.”

Thus ran the comments on the moving picture before them, which lacked the usual printed information. “I suppose it wouldn’t be proper for us to go any nearer,” said Cathalina, whose interest had reached the point of curiosity.

“Certainly not,” replied her mother. “Always keep away from anything like that. I think that the car probably was stolen and that the owner is identifying it.”

In a few minutes Philip came back to the car, while Campbell was helping the other gentleman unfasten the Van Buskirk’s tire from the back of the stolen machine. Philip brought his car up close, the tire was transferred to the place where it belonged, and the journey was resumed.

“Yes,” said Philip, in answer to the questions. “They caught the fellow outside of town and brought him in. This gentleman had telephoned to the police and by good luck had just arrived on the trolley car. He had had other business there and just happened to stop, had telephoned several towns. The man confessed to having stolen our tire, and the other man knew it was not his, so it was quickly attended to. It seems that this fellow is wanted on several charges. The police seemed to know him. He had a gun, as we thought he would, and tried to use it when they caught him.”

“He was an ugly customer,” remarked Campbell.

“We are very fortunate to have escaped so well,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk. “If you had not closed the windows and locked the car, Philip, I suppose he might have stolen more.”

The rest of the journey was pursued without any hindrance or unpleasant experiences. It seemed to the girls who were the guests that it was a beautiful dream of passing trees, hills, water and sky, seen from the midst of comfort and good companionship. Then came New York and the handsome home of the Van Buskirks.