FULL SPEED AHEAD
"My goodness gracious!" Carrie Pepper gasped. "Good land sakes!" she
added, as though the occasion demanded more.
Before the delighted and envious eyes of the watchers, the pin of the
Riddle Club was blazing--the gold question mark in the center of the
shield. It burned brightly for a few seconds, faded to a red glow, grew
cold, and died out.
"Oh!" breathed Polly softly. "Oh, how lovely!"
"Where did you get it?" Joe Anderson asked curiously, forgetting his
bandaged hand and the pain it gave him.
"Mr. Kirby sent the box, but I don't see how he could get our pin,"
puzzled Fred.
"Why, Son, he had that piece made to order," Mr. Williamson explained.
"I must say, he has gone to a great deal of trouble to give you
pleasure. But I think he would feel repaid if he saw this crowd."
"Well, it was great," said Albert Holmes heartily. "I never saw
anything like that. I didn't know you could have fireworks made to
order. Good-night, everybody."
The three households were early astir the next morning. There was
breakfast to get--and eat--doors to be locked, last minute reminders
given to Dora, the maid in the Larue house who was to keep it open for
the three fathers who would have to spend some part of each week in
River Bend. There were messages and keys and plants and canary birds to
be distributed around among the neighbors--who, by the way, all came
out to see the two cars start--and finally, just as Ward had declared
that he _knew_ they would be in exactly the same place the next day,
everything was pronounced in readiness.
"Wait one minute, till I call the roll," said Mr. Williamson. "Polly,
Artie, Jess, Ward, Margy and Fred--they seem to be present and
accounted for. All right, Mother?"
The children were to go in Mr. Williamson's car and Mr. Larue was to
drive the grown-ups. This had been Mr. Marley's plan and, as he pointed
out, the advantages were obvious. He didn't think, he said, that
grown-up talk as a rule interested the youngsters, and, for his part,
he liked to talk without being interrupted with endless questions.
"Of course, Tom, it is rather hard on you," said Mr. Marley, as he
swung Artie into the car.
"I am glad to say I know when I am well off," jolly Mr. Williamson
informed him. "You'll talk about business and complain of the heat and
I'll be listening to plans for the best vacation ever. I wouldn't trade
places with you for a farm."
"Gee, I'll bet we forgot the lunch!" exclaimed Fred, as the cars rolled
down Elm Road. "Mother told me to put the box in and I never thought of
it again."
"Guess we have to starve then," his father answered. "Can't go back.
There were chicken sandwiches, too; Mother told me."
Mr. Larue was ahead and Fred stood up and shouted.
"We forgot the lunch!" he called. "I left it on the hall table."
"It's right here, in the car," Mrs. Larue called back. "Don't worry--we
haven't forgotten a thing."
This was very comforting for, of course, no one likes to start a long
automobile trip without something to eat.
River Bend was a straggling town and followed the river, so that, as
soon as the cars turned into a cross-road, they were out of the town.
Another turn brought them to the beautiful state road upon which two
steady streams of cars were constantly passing.
"Gee, look at the cars!" said Ward. "Most of them are coming toward us.
I suppose they're folks coming home from the shore."
"Did you see the shield on that one?" Fred exclaimed. "It was shaped
like our pins," and instinctively his fingers sought the little Riddle
Club pin he wore on his coat.
"You all have your pins on, haven't you?" said Mr. Williamson. "That
would be an easy way to describe you, if you were lost--a boy wearing a
pin with a question mark on it. Or one girl--has a pin with a question
mark on its face."
"But our names are on the back," Polly reminded him. "Even if we forgot
our names, the pins would tell."
As she spoke Polly unfastened her pin and turned it over in her hand.
The car lurched suddenly, as Mr. Williamson sent it almost into the
ditch in an effort to avoid a reckless driver who had turned out
quickly from the line of cars headed toward them. Polly dropped the pin
into the grass.
"My pin!" she cried in alarm.
"Did you drop it, Polly? Where? Here, I'll turn in and some of you
children run back and find Polly's pin," Mr. Williamson said, bringing
the car to a stop under a tree.
"When did you drop it?" asked Jess, opening the door as she spoke.
"Back there, when we turned out for that green car," Polly replied. "I
hit the side of our car and that knocked the pin out of my hand."
"I can find it," declared Artie confidently. "I'll bet you it is right
in line with that fence post with the sign for orange marmalade on it."
All the children tumbled from the car and hastened back along the road,
walking carefully at one side so as not to be in the way of approaching
automobiles.
"Orange marmalade!" Fred exploded. "What in the world are you talking
about? What has that to do with Polly's pin?"
Artie merely sniffed and ran ahead. When he saw the fence post with
the advertisement he had mentioned nailed to it, he walked to a point
directly opposite it. Then, while the others hung back and watched
him, he scuffled his feet about in the dusty grass that bordered the
roadside. Suddenly he stooped and picked up something.
"You've found it!" Polly hugged him in her delight, though she knew
that Artie did not take kindly to caresses. "You found it! Good for
you, Artie!"
"How did you know it was there?" asked Margy, while Polly fastened the
pin to her blouse and resolved to be more careful in the future.
"Yes, tell us how come you're a detective," Fred suggested.
Artie wanted to pretend that his feelings were hurt. He succeeded
in looking injured and in keeping still until they came back to the
car. Then Mr. Williamson's interest and curiosity were too much to be
resisted.
"It was this way," explained Artie while Mr. Williamson shot ahead,
anxious to catch up with the other car.
"I read in a book that people with sense always watch things. When they
are taking a walk, they see the trees and the plants. When they are
out driving they notice the landmarks. I like advertisements--I always
watch them. And when our car tipped to let the other go by, I looked
right at that advertisement for orange marmalade and I remembered it.
So when Polly said she dropped her pin I knew she must have dropped it
there."
"My goodness, you read a lot of books, don't you, Artie?" Jess said,
with manifest respect.
"Improving ones," replied Artie modestly.
"Huh, what about the story books you keep under your bed?" Fred
suggested. "Nothing very improving about Indians and pirates, that I
ever heard of."
"That's because you don't read 'em," announced Artie. "Ward and I have
an invention most made now--a new kind of arrow. Any book is improving
that teaches you something."
"Right you are, Artie," Mr. Williamson flung over his shoulder. "I
daresay even arithmetic and spelling books would be 'improving,' if
certain students should learn something from them."
They all laughed, for Fred "detested" spelling and Margy and Jess were
none too strong in arithmetic.
"That was rather mean of me--on vacation, too," said Mr. Williamson. "I
hope you won't hold it against me. Hullo, what's this?"
He slowed down and the children looked ahead. There were three or four
cars, one Mr. Larue's, motionless a few yards further on.
"Oh, my, just look at the cows!" cried Polly. "Where are they going?
They fill the whole road."
The children stood up, to see better. The road, beyond the stalled
cars, was filled with a moving, swaying mass of black and white cows.
[Illustration: THE ROAD WAS A MASS OF BLACK AND WHITE COWS.
_The Riddle Club at Sunrise Beach._ _Page 44_]
"Where do you suppose they came from?" speculated Fred. "And why
doesn't some one drive them to some place?"
"I read once that cows must not be hurried," Artie declared. "It makes
them nervous, I think."
Polly laughed and Mr. Williamson frowned a little as he glanced back.
"There'll be a jam here, if something isn't done," he said. "More
cars are coming in back of us. I think we'll have to do a little
prospecting. The boys may come, but we'll let the girls cheer us on
from their places in the car."
Mr. Williamson got out and the three boys tumbled eagerly after him.
Even Margy, who did not generally envy boys, at that moment would
gladly have exchanged places with her brother.
"They always have all the fun," Jess almost wept. "I can chase cows! I
know I can!"
Mr. Williamson and the boys found half a dozen men, including Mr.
Marley and Mr. Larue, trying to herd the cows down the road, the idea
being that there must be a lane somewhere into which they could be
turned.
"Of course we could jam a way through," said Mr. Marley. "But there
is always the danger of hurting one of the animals. They've broken
out of some pasture, of course--there must be a dairy farm in the
neighborhood."
The poor cows were by now sadly frightened, and whatever sense they had
had deserted them completely when the motorists on both sides of them
began to blow their horns loudly. Whichever way the cows turned, there
were champing, snorting machines and noisy horns to distract them.
"I agree with Artie that cows should not be made nervous," said Mr.
Williamson. "Ward, go around and ask every one please to stop blowing
his horn. Fred and Artie, help me let down these bars. I think we can
drive the cows in here."
"But that's an alfalfa field," Mr. Marley protested. "The cows will
ruin it, won't they?"
"If the cows stay here much longer they'll be ruined," replied Mr.
Williamson. "The choice is not a wide one."