A DAY OF DANGERS
"What do you suppose will happen next?" asked Dorothy, as the
automobile sped along the narrow road through a woodland way.
"Don't tempt the fates," cautioned Ned, "we can always get enough
trouble without beckoning it."
"It was good sport, meeting the little country woman and all that,"
said Nat, "but I must admit I did not enjoy the mud bath. I have heard
of mud baths in sanitariums. Do you suppose they are that kind?"
"Oh, no," laughed Ned. "They perfume the mud and mix it with bay rum.
Then they allow it to trickle down your spinal column to the rhythm of
your favorite poem--so many drops to so many feet."
"I'll never forget how you looked when you came up on that rail,"
declared Tavia, merrily. "I have heard of such things, but that is the
first time I ever saw any one really ride a rail--"
"And my initial performance, I assure you. Well, do not be so
painfully faithful as never to forget my appearance. I think you might
sympathize with a fellow."
But Tavia only laughed more heartily. She declared he could not have
been drowned; of course it was wet and cold and muddy--
"And he might have fallen, and not have been able to get to his feet
again," remarked Dorothy, with apprehension. "I am awfully afraid of
mysterious accidents; and who can tell what is at the bottom of a
spring?"
"For expert testimony," replied Nat, "apply to Nathaniel White,
Esquire. He is in every way qualified--Oh, I say, my knee! Ouch!
Can't move it," and he winced in pain.
"Let me get there," insisted Ned, "you may take a kink somewhere and
make us turn turtle. Besides you will not get so much breeze back
here."
Nat was easily persuaded now, for the fact was he did not feel at all
comfortable--the mud bath was getting in its work,--so the machine was
stopped while he got in the tonneau and his brother took the place at
the wheel.
"Put this dust robe around you," ordered Dorothy. "You may miss your
coat in spite of the day, for the wind is sharp when we cut through the
air this way. I do hope you will not be ill--"
"Never! That race Mrs. Hardy gave me, or made me take, saved my life.
But it's pleasant to change seats. Ned will get a lot of laughs from
Tavia, and I will enjoy a chance to talk with you."
So the little party dashed along, until a turn in the road brought a
row of houses into view, and presently, among them, could be seen a
sign that indicated eatables were for sale there. Both girls and boys
went in to do the buying--so keen were their appetites now that each
preferred to do his or her own selecting. Tavia wanted buns, cheese
and pickles. Nat had cheese, rye bread and butter (he bought a quarter
of a pound) and besides he found, on the very tip top shelf, some glass
jars of boneless herring.
"Let's make a regular camp dinner," suggested Ned. "Buy some potatoes
and sliced bacon, make tea or coffee--"
"In what?" asked Dorothy.
"Oh, yes, that's so. We did not bring the lunch basket. By the way,
you have not seen the basket mother received for her birthday. It has
everything for a lunch on the road; a lamp to cook over, tea and coffee
pot, enameled cups, plates, good sharp knives--the neatest things, all
in a small basket. Mother never lets us take it out, when we're alone.
She thinks so much of it."
"I should think she would," remarked Dorothy. "But we were speaking of
a camp lunch--"
"Yes, let's," joined in Nat. "It's no end of fun, roasting potatoes in
a stone furnace."
"And toasting bacon on hat pins," suggested Tavia.
So it was agreed the camp lunch should be their meal, Dorothy and Ned
doing most of the work of buying and finding things fresh enough to eat
in the old-fashioned dusty store, while Tavia and Nat tasted pickles
and tried buns, until Dorothy interposed, declaring if either ate
another mouthful before the real meal was ready they would not be
allowed a single warm morsel.
"Just one potato," pleaded Nat. "I do so love burnt potatoes."
"And a single slice of bacon," urged Tavia. "I haven't had that kind
of bacon since we were out at the Cedars, and I think it is so
delicious."
"Then save your appetites," insisted Dorothy, "and help with the work.
No looking for fresh spring water this time. Nat, carry this bottle of
milk. Ned has paid for the bottle and all, so we will not have to come
back with the jar."
The paper bundles were finally put into the car, and then, turning back
to the woodland road, it was not difficult to find a place suitable to
build the camp-fire, and set table on a big stump of a newly-felled
tree that Tavia said made her more hungry than ever, for the chips
smelt like vinegar and molasses, she declared.
So pleasant was the camp life our friends had embarked upon, they did
not notice how far the afternoon was getting away from them, and before
they had any inclination to start out on the road again, the sun had
rolled itself up into a big red ball, and was sinking down behind the
hills.
"Oh, it may be dark before we get back to Dalton," said Dorothy in
alarm. "We should have started an hour ago."
"But the potatoes were not done," Tavia reminded her, "and we never
could have left without eating them after carrying cords and cords of
wood to the oven."
"Get aboard," called Nat, "I'll take the wheel now, Ned. I'm entirely
thawed out."
It had certainly been a delightful day, even the accident at the spring
was now merely an event to laugh at, while the meal on the big chestnut
stump, beside the camp-fire, had been so enjoyable, and now, all that
remained was the pleasant ride home. That is all that appeared to
remain, but automobile rides, like chickens, should not be counted
until all is over, and the machine is safely put up for the night.
Chickens have the same tendency as have autos toward surprises--and
disappointments.
"There's a hill," remarked Ned, quite unnecessarily, as a long stretch
of brown road seemed to bound up in front of them.
"A nice climb," acquiesced Nat. "Now, Birdy, be good. Straight ahead.
No flunking now--steady," and he "coaxed" the machine into a slow, even
run, that became more and more irksome as the grade swelled.
"But when we get at the top?" asked Tavia.
"We will not stay there long," answered Nat, "for if there is one thing
this machine likes to do it is to coast down hill."
The Fire-Bird made its way up the steep grade, and presently, as Nat
predicted, turned the hill-crest and "flew" down the other side.
The swiftness of the motion made conversation impossible, for the
machine was coasting, the power being off, and surely the Fire-Bird was
"flying through the air."
Reaching the level stretch again, Nat threw in the clutch, but a
grinding and clanking noise answered his movement of the lever.
"Hello!" called Ned from the rear. "Busted!"
"Something wrong," agreed Ned, looking at the spark and gasoline
controllers.
Presently, as the boys expected, the machine slowed up, and then came
to a stop.
Both were out at once, and they examined the mechanism together.
"It's the leather facings on the friction clutch," declared Ned. "See
that one worn off?"
"Guess that's right," answered Ned. "Well, now for a horse."
"I sold my wheel for an automobile; Get a horse! Get a horse!" sang
Tavia, while she and Dorothy climbed out to join the inspection
committee.
"Is it bad?" asked Dorothy.
"Bad enough to stall us until we can get it fixed up somewhere," said
Ned. "We'll have to take part of the clutch out," and he proceeded to
do so.
"Yes, we cannot move until we get a new leather on here," added Nat.
"I wonder how far we might be from a blacksmith shop."
"A couple of miles," answered Tavia. "I have often been through this
woods."
"Then I suppose," went on Ned, rather dolefully, "there is nothing to
be done but 'hike' to the shop."
"You go and I'll stay and take care of the girls," suggested Nat.
"Oh, both go," chimed in Tavia. "You will get back sooner, and you may
have some trouble getting it fixed at the shop, for I have been there
and I know the man is as deaf as a post and--other things," she
finished vaguely. "There is a house just across the fields there and
we are not the least bit afraid--"
"If it will hurry the work you had best both go," Dorothy added. "As
Tavia says, there is a house in sight, and we could run there if
anything came along to scare us."
"Well, trot along Nat," commanded Ned, as he took up the piece of the
clutch. "This is sure your busy day. I'll race you to the bend to
make good time, and I assure you, young ladies, we will not be one
moment longer than necessary away from you."
"We are so very fond of you," joked Nat, "that every moment will be
unto us an hour--"
"Oh, come, quit your nonsense, if you are going to run--"
But before Ned had finished, his brother had gained quite a handicap
and was making tracks through the glen, and then out again into the
open.
"Isn't it lonely," said Dorothy, getting into the disabled machine
after the youths were out of sight.
"Not a bit," declared Tavia. "No tramps around here. But such a day!
I almost feel as if one more thing must happen. Bad luck goes in
threes, you know. One more will surely make up our day--"
"Oh, please don't talk so," and Dorothy shivered. "I do wish we were
safely back in Dalton."
"And the boys gone back to the Cedars! Well, I would rather have the
ride ahead of me, than to have it all ended. It is so nice to have
good times. Sometimes I think I'll just run away, and see what there
is to do and observe outside of that stupid old Dalton," exclaimed
Tavia.
"Tavia!" and Dorothy's voice betrayed how shocked she was at the very
thought of such a thing as "running away." "How can you talk so?"
"Oh, it's all very well for you, Doro. You can have and do as you
please; but poor me! I must be content--"
"Tavia, I am sure I heard someone coming!" exclaimed Dorothy.
"Quite likely. This is a common road, you know. We have no fence
around it."
"But suppose it should be some rough person--"
"If we don't like his looks when he comes up we can run," said Tavia,
coolly.
"And leave the car?"
"Can't take it with us, surely."
For a few moments neither girl spoke. Dorothy had never gotten over
the frights she had received when the man Anderson followed her for the
purpose of getting information about the Burlock matter, and every
trifling thing alarmed her now.
"It's a man," said Tavia, as the form of a heavily-built fellow could
now be discerned on the path.
"Oh, and he has that same kind of hat on," sighed Dorothy, referring to
the hat previously worn by Anderson.
"And it--really--does look like him! Let's run! We have just about
time to get to that house. Come out this side. There, give me your
hand," and Tavia, glancing back to the figure in the road, took
Dorothy's hand and urged her on over the rough path, until Dorothy felt
she must fall from fright and exhaustion.
The road to the farm house was on a little side path turning off from
the one followed by the boys on their way to the blacksmith shop.
Having once gained the spot where the roads met, Tavia stopped to look
back at the car.
"I declare!" she gasped. "He is climbing into the machine."
"Oh, what shall we do?" wailed Dorothy.
"Can't do a thing but hide here until the boys come. We can see him if
he gets out, but if we went over to the house we might miss the boys,
and they might run right into his arms."
"Oh," cried Dorothy. "I am so dreadfully frightened. Don't you
suppose we can get any help until the boys come?"
"Not unless someone happens to pass. And this is a back road: no one
seems to go home from work this way."
"Oh, if someone only would!" and Dorothy was now almost in tears.
"Just see!" exclaimed Tavia, "he is examining the front now. Suppose
he could start it up?"
"But he cannot," Dorothy declared, "if the car worked the boys would
never have left us here all alone," and again she was dangerously near
shedding tears.
"There now, he is getting in again. Well, I hope he stays there until
someone comes," said Tavia. "Isn't it getting dark?"
"And if the boys do not get back-- Oh, perhaps we had better run right
straight on. We may get to some town--"
"We would be running into a deeper woods, and goodness knows, it is
dark enough here. No, we had better stay near the house, then, if
worst comes to worst, we can ask them to keep us all night--"
"Tavia you make me shudder," cried Dorothy. "Of course we will not
have to do any such thing."
But Tavia's spirit of adventure was thoroughly aroused, and, in her
sensational way, she forgot for the moment the condition of Dorothy's
nerves, and really enjoyed the speculation of what might happen if "the
worst came to the worst."
"There he goes again," she burst out, beginning to see humor in the
situation, as the figure in the car climbed from the front seat to the
back. "He is like the little girl who got into the house of the 'Three
Bears.' One is too high and one is too low--there now, Doro, he has
found your place 'just right' and will go to sleep there, see if he
doesn't."
"Hark! That's Ned's voice--"
"And that's Nat's--"
"Yes, there they come. Oh, I am so glad--"
"Me too," said Tavia, in her pardonable English.
"Had we better go and meet them?"
"No, indeed, the man in the car might take it into his head to come to.
Better keep quiet."
Presently Ned and Nat reached the corner.
"Hush," called Tavia, coming out from her hiding-place.
"Well, what on earth--" began Nat.
"Listen," commanded Tavia. "There's a man in the car. He has been
there ever since you went away--"
"In our car! Well, his time is up," blurted out Ned. "He must move
on," and the boy's manner indicated, "I will make him move on."
"But he may be dangerous," cried Dorothy. "Oh, please Ned, don't go
near him until you have someone to help you!"
"And what would I be doing?" said Nat, in that same challenging manner.
"Come along, Ned. We will teach that fellow to let our girls and our
property alone."
"But please!" begged Dorothy, clinging to Ned. "Call someone from that
house. He did look so like--"
"Our friend Anderson," finished Tavia, for Dorothy seemed too
frightened to utter the name.
"Did he though?" and Nat gave Ned a significant look. "All the more
reason why I should like to make his acquaintance. You girls will have
to hide here until we get rid of him, and we have no time to spare if
we want to work by daylight. Come along, Ned. Girls, don't be the
least alarmed. We will be down the road after you in a jiffy. It
won't take two seconds to put in this clutch."
"But I feel sure it is that dreadful man," wailed Dorothy. "Oh, if
some strong person would only come!"
"Now, you just sit down there," said Ned, tenderly, "and when you hear
us whistle you will know it is all right. It may be only a poor farmer
resting on his way home."
But the girls were too certain that no farmer would have enjoyed
climbing from one seat to the other as they had seen this man doing,
and they had strange misgivings about him--of course Anderson was in
jail, but--
"Now, don't be a bit worried," added Nat. "We will be spinning down
the road directly," and at this the boys left the girls again, and
started down the road to interview the strange man in their automobile.
"Oh, I do feel as if I shall die!" cried Dorothy. "Let us pray, Tavia,
that nothing will happen to the boys!"
"You pray, but I have to watch," answered Tavia, not realizing how
scriptural her words were, "for if they should need help I have got to
go to that house after it."
Then, on the damp grass, poor Dorothy buried her head in prayer, such
prayer as can come only from a heart in distress.
Tavia, as she had said, stood straight out in the middle of the road,
watching through the dim light.
The boys were at the car now, and they were speaking to the man!