OFF AT LAST
"The ancients," stated Jennie Stone solemnly, "burned incense upon any and
all occasions--red letter days, labor days, celebrating Columbus Day and
the morning after, I presume. But we moderns burn gasoline. And, phew! I
believe I should prefer the stale smoke of incense in the unventilated
pyramids of Egypt to this odor of gas. O-o-o-o, Tommy, do let us get
started!"
"You've started already--in your usual way," he laughed.
This was at Cheslow Station on the arrival of the afternoon up train that
had brought Miss Stone, her Aunt Kate, and the smiling Colonel Henri
Marchand to join the automobile touring party which Jennie soon dubbed
"the later Pilgrims."
"And that big machine looks much as the _Mayflower_ must have looked
steering across Cape Cod Bay on that special occasion we read of in sacred
and profane history, hung about with four-poster beds and whatnots. In our
neighborhood," the plump girl added, "there is enough decrepit furniture
declared to have been brought over on the _Mayflower_ to have made a cargo
for the _Leviathan_."
"Oh, _ma chere_! you do but stretch the point, eh?" demanded the handsome
Henri Marchand, amazed.
"I assure you----"
"Don't, Heavy," advised Helen. "You will only go farther and do worse. In
my mind there has always been a suspicion that the _Mayflower_ was sent
over here by some shipped knocked-down furniture factory. Miles Standish
and Priscilla Mullins and John Alden must have hung on by their eyebrows."
"Their eyebrows--_ma foi_!" gasped Marchand.
"Say, old man," said Tom, laughing, "if you listen to these crazy college
girls you will have a fine idea of our historical monuments, and so forth.
Take everything with a grain of salt--do."
"_Oui, Monsieur!_ But I must have a little pepper, too. I am 'strong,' as
you Americans say, for plentiful seasoning."
"Isn't he cute?" demanded Jenny Stone. "He takes to American slang like a
bird to the air."
"Poetry barred!" declared Helen.
"Say," Tom remarked aside to the colonel, "you've got all the pep
necessary, sure enough, in Jennie."
"She is one dear!" sighed the Frenchman.
"And she just said you were a bird. You'll have a regular zoo about you
yet. Come on. Let's see if we can get this baggage aboard the good ship.
It does look a good deal of an ark, doesn't it?"
Although Ruth and Aunt Kate had not joined in this repartee, the girl of
the Red Mill, as well as their lovely chaperon, enjoyed the fun immensely.
Ruth had revived in spirits on meeting her friends. Jennie had flown to
her arms at the first greeting, and hugged the girl of the Red Mill with
due regard to the mending shoulder.
"My dear! My dear!" she had cried. "I _dream_ of you lying all so pale and
bloody under that window-sill stone. And what I hear of your and Tom's
experiences coming over----"
"But worse has happened to me since I arrived home," Ruth said woefully.
"No? Impossible!"
"Yes. I have had an irreparable loss," sighed Ruth. "I'll tell you about
it later."
But for the most part the greetings of the two parties was made up as Tom
said of "Ohs and Ahs."
"Take it from me," the naughty Tom declared to Marchand, "two girls
separated for over-night can find more to tell each other about the next
morning than we could think of if we should meet at the Resurrection!"
The two Cameron cars stood in the station yard, and as the other waiting
cars, taxicabs and "flivvers" departed, "the sacred odor of gasoline,"
which Jennie had remarked upon, was soon dissipated.
The big touring car was expertly packed with baggage, and had a big hamper
on either running-board as well. There was room remaining, however, for
the ladies if they would sit there. But as Tom was to drive the big car he
insisted that Ruth sit with him in the front seat for company. As for his
racing car, he had turned that over to Marchand. It, too, was well laden;
but at the start Jennie squeezed in beside her colonel, and the maroon
speeder was at once whisperingly dubbed by the others "the honeymoon car."
"Poor children!" said Aunt Kate in private to the two other girls. "They
cannot marry until the war is over. _That_ my brother is firm upon,
although he thinks well of Colonel Henri. And who could help liking him?
He is a most lovable boy."
"'Boy!'" repeated Ruth. "And he is one of the most famous spies France has
produced in this war! And a great actor!"
"But we believe he is not acting when he tells us he loves Jennie," Aunt
Kate said.
"Surely not!" cried Helen.
"He is the soul of honor," Ruth declared. "I trust him as I do--well, Tom.
I never had a brother."
"I've always shared Tom with you," pouted Helen.
"So you have, dear," admitted Ruth. "But a girl who has had no
really-truly brother really has missed something. Perhaps good, perhaps
bad. But, at least, if you have brothers you understand men better."
"Listen to the wisdom of the owl!" scoffed Helen. "Why, Tommy is only a
girl turned inside out. A girl keeps all her best and softest attributes
to the fore, while a boy thinks it is more manly to show a prickly
surface--like the burr of a chestnut."
"Listen to them!" exclaimed Aunt Kate, with laughter. "All the wise
sayings of the ancient world must be crammed under those pretty caps you
wear, along with your hair."
"That is what we get at college," said Helen seriously. "Dear old Ardmore!
Ruth! won't you be glad to get back to the grind again?"
"I--don't--know," said her chum slowly. "We have seen so much greater
things than college. It's going to be rather tame, isn't it?"
But this conversation was all before they were distributed into their
seats and had started. Colonel Marchand was an excellent driver, and he
soon understood clearly the mechanism of the smaller car. Tom gave him the
directions for the first few miles and they pulled out of the yard with
Mr. Curtis, the station master, and his lame daughter, who now acted as
telegraph operator, waving the party good-bye.
They would not go by the way of the Red Mill, for that would take them out
of the way they had chosen. The inn they had in mind to stop at on this
first night was a long four hours' ride.
"Eastward, Ho!" shouted Tom. "This is to be a voyage of discovery, but
don't discover any punctures or blow-outs this evening."
Then he glanced at Ruth's rather serious face beside him and muttered to
himself:
"And we want to discover principally the smile that Ruth Fielding seems to
have permanently lost!"