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CHAPTER IV
ON THE ROAD

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There was more “finishing” to be done than even Cora had thought, and, with her usual habit of looking after matters, she had counted on much. But the thunder-shower, the fire, the finding of the strange woman, and listening to her still more strange story all combined to make the affair of getting ready for the trip in the morning no easy one.

But Cora was determined to carry out the plans as agreed on, so when her friends showed a disposition to delay, and dwell in conversation on the recent happenings, she “brought them up with a round turn,” as Jack expressed it.

“I just can’t get over that queer woman,” observed Belle, during a lull in the talk, while Cora was jotting down in a pretty red leather notebook some matters she did not want to forget. “She had such–such a patient face.”

“Maybe she was tired of waiting for a new one,” suggested Norton, who was usually flippant. “I’ve heard that ladies can get new faces at these–er–beauty parlors.”

“It’s a pity there isn’t some sort of a parlor where one can get–manners!” murmured Eline. She seemed to have taken a distinct dislike to the new young man.

Belle and Bess, who had overheard the remark, looked rather askance at Cora’s relative, but said nothing.

“Now then!” exclaimed the young hostess, “since you have all gotten rid of as much of the effects of the fire as possible, we’ll go over the main points to be sure nothing will go wrong. Oh, that’s something I almost forgot. I must send mamma our address.”

Mrs. Kimball had gone to Europe for a summer tour, leaving her daughter and son at home. When they went to the Cove the house would be in charge of a care-taker. Cora had not fully determined on her vacation plans when her mother went away, and now there was necessity for forwarding the address.

“I’ll attend to that the last thing to-night,” Cora went on. “I’ll send mother a long letter, and write again as soon as we get settled at the Cove.”

“If we ever do get settled,” murmured Walter. “Say, boys, am I any less–hammy?” and he sniffed at his coat about which still lingered the smell of gasoline.

“You’re of the ham–saltiest–or hammiest!” declared Ed.

“You may break, you may burn the garage if you will

The taste of the gasoline stays with it still.”


It was Walter who mis-quoted this couplet.

“Oh, boys, please do be quiet!” begged Cora. “We will never get anything done if you don’t!”

“It strikes me we got considerable done a short time ago, when we put that fire out,” remarked Jack. Cora looked sharply at him.

“I’ll be good, Sis–don’t shoot–I’m coming down,” he exclaimed, and he “slumped” at Eline’s feet and made a fruitless endeavor to hold her slim, pretty hand.

“Stop!” she commanded with a blush.

“That’s my privilege!” called Ed, as he made a quick move, but the visitor from the Windy City escaped by getting behind Bess, who was in the Roman chair.

“If you don’t – ” began Cora determinedly, and then she changed her tone. “Please – ” she pleaded.

“After that–nothing but silence!” came from Walter. “Go easy, boys!”

Silence did reign–or, considering the shower, might one not say “rain” for a moment? Cora resumed.

“We are to start as early in the morning as possible,” she said. “I figured–or rather Jack and Ed did–that the trip to Sandy Point Cove would take about three days–perhaps four if–if anything happened like tire trouble. But we are in no hurry, and we can spend five days on the road if we like.

“My cousin, Mrs. Fordam, will go along with us as a chaperone, so that stopping at hotels will be perfectly–proper.”

“I thought it was always proper to stop at a hotel–when you had the price!” ventured Jack.

“You don’t understand,” declared his sister, giving him a look. “So Cousin Mary will be on the trip with us. I guess you all know her, except Eline and Norton. She’s jolly and funny.”

“Why can’t she go right on to the Cove with us, and chaperone there, too?” Belle wanted to know.

“Because Mamma’s aunt–Mrs. Susan Chester–is to look after us there. You’ll like Aunt Susan, I’m sure.”

“Are we to call her that?” Ed asked.

“Of course–she won’t mind,” spoke Cora. “Well, as I said, we’ll go to the Cove–taking whatever time we please. There are two bungalows there, you know, and we girls are to have the larger one, so – ”

“Well, I like that!” cried Jack, sitting up. “As if we fellows could dress in a band-box.”

“Oh, your place is plenty big enough–you know it is!” retorted his sister. “And you know when you and I went down to look at them you said you liked the smaller one best, anyhow.”

“Did I?” inquired Jack, slightly bewildered.

“You certainly did!”

“Now will you be good?” laughed Walter.

“We girls need more room anyhow,” was the opinion of Bess, calmly given.

“Nothing more to say,” declared Ed, sententiously. “I know how many dresses each of you is going to take now. Slay on, Macbeth!” and he closed his eyes resignedly.

“Everything will be ready for us at the bungalows,” went on Cora. “Aunt Susan has promised to see to that.”

“How about–er–grub–not to put too fine a point upon it?” asked Jack.

“The refreshments will be there,” Cora answered, pointedly.

“Oh my! Listen to that!” mocked Ed.

“We’ll have to put on our glad rags for dinner every night, fellows–notice that–I said dinner! Ahem!”

“Please be quiet!” begged Cora. “Now we’re at the bungalows,” and she consulted her list.

“Come out for a swim” cried Walter, imitating a seal, and barking like one.

“I mean in imagination,” added Cora. “There, I think that is all. Our trunks and suit cases are nearly packed, Cousin Mary will be here later to-night, ready to start in the morning with us. Our route is all mapped out, and I guess we can count on a good time.”

“Are the bungalows near the beach?” asked Eline.

“Almost on it,” answered Cora. “At high tide and with the wind on shore the spray comes on the porches!”

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Belle, apprehensively. “I know – ”

“You’re going to learn to swim, you promised!” cried Cora. “Can anyone think of anything else?”

They all could, and promptly proceeded to do so, a perfect babel of talk ensuing. Some forgotten points were jotted down and then, as it was getting late, the young people dispersed, promising to meet early in the morning. It had stopped raining when they went out, so there was no need to hunt up umbrellas.

“Cora,” said Jack, a bit solemnly, as he was helping her lock up for the night, “was there anything about that strange woman that you didn’t tell us?”

“Not a thing, Jack, except that I discovered her in the stairway that time I screamed, and I let you think it was a rat. Then I told her to hurry in the house without being seen. I saw she was in no condition to talk then. That was all.”

“Good for you, Sis. You managed it all right. But I would like to get at the bottom of her trouble.”

“So would I. Perhaps we may–later. Good-night,” and they separated.

The next day was all that could be wished for. The sun shone with revived and determined energy, as it always seems to after a rain, when it “has been deprived of its proper set the night before,” to quote Jack. The roads had dried up nicely, and everything pointed to a most delightful trip.

An investigation by Jack in the daytime proved that the fire had done very little damage to the barn. A close inspection seemed to indicate that spontaneous combustion of some gasoline carelessly left in an open can had caused it. Jack’s car was not enough scorched to be more than barely noticeable from the rear.

Cousin Mary had arrived on time, and helped Cora get ready. Jack ran the three cars out of the stable before his friends arrived, and had them ready for the passengers. Gasoline and oil tanks had been filled the day before, and the motors gone over to insure as perfect service as possible. Tires had also been looked after.

Jack and Ed were to go together in the former’s Get There, Cora, in her big maroon Whirlwind would have Eline as her passenger, the tonneau being taken up with luggage.

Norton Randolf, who owned a small, but powerful car, had invited Walter to go with him, Norton being included in the invitation to go “bungaloafing by the sea,” as Jack characterized it. He was really good company after one had become used to some of his mannerisms. The Robinson twins, of course, would use their own car. The girls, including Cora, were no longer amateur motorists, but could drive their machines with a skill equal to that of the boys.

Norton arrived soon after Walter and Ed, coming up in his car, which was kept in a public garage.

“Where is your cousin going to ride, Cora?” asked Belle, as they hurried the final preparations. “I don’t see how you can get her in your machine, with those trunks and things in the tonneau.”

“That’s so!” exclaimed Cora, with a tragic gesture. “I knew I had forgotten something. I had down on my notes ‘Cousin Mary–where?’ and I took it to mean where would I put her to sleep. I see now it was where should I put her to ride.”

“Let her come with us!” exclaimed Bess. “You can take one of our suit cases in your car, and that will leave plenty of room for your cousin.”

“I guess that’s all we can do now,” said Cora. “Oh, dear, I thought I had fixed everything!”

“Don’t fuss, my dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Fordam. “It will be all right. Your car is so big that I’m really afraid of it.”

So it was arranged, and when a few other forgotten matters had been settled, Cora gave the last instructions to the care-taker of the Kimball home, and blew a blast on her auto horn as a signal to start.

“At last we are off!” sighed Eline, as she sat beside Cora. “It seems as if time moves slowest of all at the end.”

“It really does,” agreed Cora. “I’m glad we are able to start. When I saw that blaze in the garage–Oh, my dear, you’ve no idea how my heart sank. It almost stopped beating.”

“I can imagine so. What a pretty suit you have,” and she glanced admiringly at Cora’s smart motoring costume. It was a light biscuit shade, of a material that would stand wear, and not show the stains of travel.

“Your own is fully as pretty–perhaps a little too nice,” returned Cora. Eline had made rather elaborate preparations for her Eastern trip, as regarded dress. But she was within good taste, for she ran much to harmonizing shades–perhaps too much so.

“Are we going at this snail’s pace all day?” cried Jack to his sister. “Can’t you move faster?”

“We want the good people of Chelton to have a chance to admire us,” called Belle.

“Shall we pass her?” asked Norton of Walter. “My car can easily get ahead of the Whirlwind.”

“Don’t do it,” Walter advised. “I don’t believe Cora would like it. And really, she arranged this affair, so she ought to make the pace.”

“All right,” assented the new lad, and he had the good sense to see the wisdom of the advice.

They passed the Robinson home, the twins waving and being waved at, and then the four autos turned out on the main road that led into a glorious country–a country doubly glorious this morning because of the rain of the night before.

They were really on the road at last, and as Cora glanced down it, her gloved hands firm on the steering wheel, she could not help wondering if it was this road that the strange and perhaps misunderstood woman had taken when she fled so silently from the Kimball house. Also Cora wondered if she would ever meet her again. The chances were against it and yet —

“Really so many strange things have happened to us on some of our auto trips,” she explained to Eline as they talked it over, “that I would not be surprised if we did see her again–and perhaps – ”

“Even that Nancy Ford!” supplied Eline.

“Oh, that would be too much to expect, my dear!” said Cora, with a laugh. “We turn here!” she added, “just hold out your hand, Eline.”

“Hold out my hand?” Eline asked, wonderingly, as she stretched it straight out in front of her. “What for?”

“No, I mean out at the side of the car,” explained Cora. “It is a sign to whoever is coming behind that you are going to turn. It prevents accidents.”

“Oh, I see,” and this time the Chicago girl did it properly.

The Motor Girls on the Coast: or, The Waif From the Sea

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