THE JOURNEY HOME
The next few days passed quickly to the campers, who were loath for
the time to approach when they would have to "pull up stakes" for the
return to Baltimore.
Among the excursions following the fishing trip, was another of a
similar nature, participated in alone by Jim and Gerald. But as the
results were considerably less than on the day the girls had
accompanied them, there was a hearty laugh at the boys' expense when
they returned to camp. This they accepted good-naturedly, however.
At one time or another the whole face of the mountain was explored,
many curious things being discovered. Among them was a cave of large
extent, where stalactites and stalagmites abounded in great
profusion. Many were broken off to be taken back home as mementoes of
the trip.
Nothing further had been heard from James Haley and Sheriff Dundon,
and during the last few days in camp Len was allowed to show himself,
though he did not venture far from the tents, fearing to take a risk
that might be the means of placing him again in captivity.
By the time the day for departure came, the lad had won his way into
the hearts of everyone. Aunt Betty and Dorothy were so taken with his
winning manners and extreme good nature that they already regarded
him as a protege, and were planning how he was to be trained for the
future, and given a thorough business education.
When the plan was mentioned to Len he fell into the spirit of it with
an alacrity that astonished them. His resolve to make something of
himself was a commendable one and showed the proper appreciation for
their efforts.
On the morning which marked the end of their two weeks' stay, the
boys began to gather up the camping paraphernalia which was packed in
the rear chest and under the seats of the automobile.
After a short conference between the campers, it was decided that to
best enjoy their last day, the afternoon should be spent running
about over the mountains in the machine. The journey home would then
be made by moonlight, Gerald having won Aunt Betty's consent to
"speed her up." He promised that they should all be home and in bed
shortly after midnight.
"Oh, dear, dear!" moaned Aunt Betty. "I see I'm in for it. Why did I
ever let you persuade me to become a party to this speed mania,
Gerald Blank?"
"Don't ask me why, Mrs. Calvert," Gerald responded, laughing; "I only
know that you did. I have your promise, remember! And," he added,
dramatically, "a Calvert never goes back on a promise."
"Oh, yes; you have my promise, but I'm sorry I gave it."
"She'll be glad she promised, when she sees how easy the big Ajax
covers ground," said Jim, winking at his chum.
"I think the ride back to Baltimore by moonlight will be ideal," said
Molly, rapturously.
"Isn't it strange to think that here we are over sixty miles from
home, not planning to start until the moon is up, yet will be home
and in bed by midnight?" said Aurora.
"Pshaw! That's nothing," cried Gerald. "It's mere play for this big
Ajax. Why, I could easily do the sixty miles in a little over an hour
if Aunt Betty--"
"Mercy!" screamed Aunt Betty. "In a little over an hour? Gerald, if
you don't stop that silly talk, I shall sit myself down under one of
these trees and refuse to budge an inch."
"Oh, you don't know how nice it is to ride fast, Aunt Betty," said
Dorothy; "to feel the wind fairly blowing the hair off your head; the
landscape flashing past so rapidly one can scarcely see it, and to
know that--"
"Stop, Dorothy Calvert! You shall not tempt me. I'm too old to
acquire such habits, and if Gerald lets his car get beyond a fair
rate of speed during our journey home, I shall leap out into the
ditch. Then just think how badly you all will feel."
But the boys only grinned at this, and resumed their work of taking
down the tents.
Soon everything was packed in the machine but enough food for their
mid-day lunch, which was eaten under the shade of the trees.
When the time to leave came at last, no one seemed happier or more
eager than Len Haley. An instinctive fear seemed to possess the lad
that his uncle would be prowling about the mountains and apprehend
him when he least expected it; hence, to go flying away to Baltimore
in a big automobile was to him the acme of delight.
The early afternoon was spent at the camp, but about four o'clock,
when the sun was on the decline, and the shadows in the valley had
commenced to lengthen, Gerald, at the wheel of the big Ajax, sent the
machine slowly across the plateau toward the eastern mountain.
As the car moved along the girls burst into a song, and a moment
later Jim and Gerald joined in. For a few moments they fairly made
the welkin ring. Then as the machine was plunging down a steep
descent the concert came to an abrupt end, and the inmates clutched
the rails to keep from pitching forward.
Up around the side of the east mountain the auto then climbed slowly,
seeming to exert itself very little for the performance of so
difficult a task.
Shortly after sundown, they went spinning down into the valley to the
hotel where they had stopped for the night on their trip to the
mountains two weeks before.
The landlord had apparently forgotten that this was the party who had
feasted on the good things he had set before them, greatly to his
discomfiture; for now he put himself out to serve them a fine supper.
And everyone was hungry! Cold meats, bread, fresh country butter, and
milk, with iced tea for those who desired it, and strawberry jelly
and chocolate cake for dessert, made a bill of fare tempting enough
to suit the most fastidious member of the party.
With the supply of gasoline replenished, both in the regular and
reserve tanks, with the moon peeping over the undulating land to the
eastward, shedding its brilliant rays over farm and road, the party
left the village hotel for the run back to Baltimore.
Aunt Betty sat sternly in the big rear seat, with Dorothy on one side
and Aurora on the other, her bonnet held firmly in place by a large
veil, her lips tightly compressed in prospect of the fast ride Gerald
had promised was to come. She had little to say. In her heart was a
nameless dread--had been, in fact, since Gerald won her consent to
allow him to run at a faster pace on the return trip.
The highways in this part of Maryland were all that could be desired,
and Gerald was not long in fulfilling part of his promise. Knowing
that something over half way to their destination there was for
several miles a bad stretch of road, he wished to even matters by
making good time until the rough spots were reached.
It was nearly nine o'clock now, and as the auto gathered speed, Aunt
Betty gave a little gasp, then looked at Dorothy and bravely smiled.
Gradually Gerald let the car out until she was doing fully forty
miles an hour. This could be kept up only on the smooth level
stretches which they encountered every now and then. In climbing the
hills, the car did not average over eight. The streams of light from
the gas lamps made a wobbly path in the darkness when occasionally
clouds blew across the sky, obscuring the moon.
The car made very little noise. In fact, the low hum of the engine,
and swish of the tires along the smooth roadway, were all that met
their ears as they went flying up hill and down dale, past farmhouses
and over bridges. The great highway seemed deserted save for an
occasional farm wagon, which turned quickly to one side when its
occupant saw their rapidly approaching lamps.
Gerald was very considerate of horses, knowing that many animals were
unused to automobiles, hence were liable to become frightened at the
slightest provocation.
Through the villages the speed was slackened to not more than ten
miles an hour. Very few of the places had electric lights, hence
Gerald was forced to depend entirely upon the moon and his lamps for
guidance through crooked streets. At times they passed little groups
of people, come out from nearby houses to watch them go by; at others
they were chased for long distances by yelping dogs, who snapped at
the wheels and in other ways tried to show their supreme contempt for
a vehicle driven without horses.
Aunt Betty soon grew used to the bursts of speed, and before they
were half way to Baltimore she was breathing freely once more,
conscious of the fact that in Gerald the big auto had a good pilot,
and convinced that did the occasion demand it, the car could be
brought to a standstill within its own length.
"I believe I like it when you 'speed her up,' as you say," she
finally admitted, greatly to Gerald's delight. "I hope I shan't
develop a mania for speeding, however, as that would necessitate my
buying a car--something which I don't feel able to do just at
present."
"I shouldn't allow you to buy one," said Dorothy, a note of authority
in her voice that caused a laugh from the others.
"Humph! Talks like she rules the ranch," said Jim.
"Well, maybe I do, Mr. Smarty," replied the girl. "One thing I am
quite sure of--_you_ don't!"
"Come, children; neither of you rule the ranch," Aunt Betty
intervened. "I rule it and expect to do so for an indefinite period."
"See!" Jim cried, tauntingly. "Told you so! Told you so!"
Dorothy aimed a playful blow at him, but he dodged and caught her arm
in a vise-like grip, refusing to let go until she had promised to be
a good girl.
At ten-fifteen they passed through a village which Gerald said was
the half-way mark between Baltimore and the South Mountains.
"We have rather a bad stretch of road ahead, however," he told them,
"so for the next half hour it will be slower going. But wait till we
strike the graveled county road this side of Baltimore. Then we'll
make up some of our lost time."
But somehow this did not interest Aunt Betty. She was talking with
the girls and apparently felt not the slightest tremor at the thought
of going at a faster pace--a change that Dorothy noticed and
commented on with no little delight.
Just when Gerald was congratulating himself that the roughest part of
the trip was over, the front tire on the left exploded with a bang
that brought a scream from every feminine inmate of the car.
Molly, who was nearest the noise, promptly threw her arms around
Gerald's neck, and clung there as if her very life depended on it.
It was with considerable difficulty that the boy retained the
presence of mind to stop the car. But he did so immediately, then
gave himself up to the task of releasing Molly's arms. When he had
succeeded, he kissed her on the lips, greatly to her amazement and
chagrin, for the others, recovered from their momentary scare,
laughed heartily.
"Gerald Blank!" she cried. "I'll never, never forgive you for that!"
"Well, seeing you came so near capsizing us by your affectionate
embrace of the chauffeur, the latter individual is surely entitled to
some reward for his valued services--particularly as he will now have
to detain the party some ten or fifteen minutes while he does a
little real hard labor."
He jumped quickly out of the machine and going around to the left
front wheel, examined the exploded tire. It was perfectly flat.
"Yes;" he repeated, "this means a little work."
"That was hard luck, Gerald," said Dorothy, "particularly when you
were trying to make a record run."
"Yes; it's the first trouble we've had with the machine since
starting on our trip. But this is really a simple matter, Dorothy."
"Oh, I'm so glad of that."
"I shall still have the satisfaction of putting you into Bellvieu in
time to be in bed by twelve--and we may even shade that time a
little. Come, Jim! Get that jack out of the tool chest, and help me
hoist this wheel off the ground. You'd better bring the pump, also,
and we'll see how long it will take you and Ephy to inflate a tire of
this size."
Jim and Ephraim both sprang to Gerald's aid. Soon the jack was under
the wheel, where it required but a moment to raise the machine until
the wheel was clear of the ground.
Then Gerald removed the punctured tire, pulled out the inner tube,
and proceeded to put the new one in its place. With the tire back on
the rim again, he attached the end of the pump to the air tube with
astonishing swiftness, and Jim began at once to force the ozone into
the rubber. Tiring after a few moments, he gave way to Ephraim, while
Gerald, his hand on the tire, waited until it was sufficiently hard
to carry the weight of the machine. Then he gave the signal to stop
pumping.
Another moment sufficed to lower the wheel onto the ground, and to
put the tools back in the chest. Then Gerald and his helpers crawled
into the machine and the big car started off as if nothing had
happened. The whole affair had not taken over ten minutes.
"I had no idea punctures were so easily remedied," said Aunt Betty.
"Somehow, I have always dreaded the thought of being in an automobile
away from the city when a tire blew up. But, aside from the noise,
there seem to be no disagreeable features."
"Would be if you didn't happen to have an extra inner tube along,"
said Jim.
Gerald nodded.
"You're right. The idea is always to have one."
"But what would you do if you hadn't?" asked Dorothy.
"It would be necessary to find the hole in the punctured tube and
stop it up with cement."
"And then you would have to wait hours for it to dry, I suppose?"
"No; only a few minutes. There is a preparation something like putty
which you force into the puncture, and which dries in a very few
minutes. Of course, a tire fixed in this way would never be
considered as satisfactory as a new inner tube, yet they have been
known to go many miles without the slightest trouble. In fact, you
are more apt to get a new puncture, than to have the patch give
out."
Time passed so quickly as the big machine shot along the level
highway at a rapid pace that no one realized their whereabouts until
Aunt Betty cried suddenly:
"Oh, look over there! Those must be the Northern Lights."
Her hand was extended toward a brilliant glare which lit up the sky
as the moon went behind a heavy cloud.
"The Northern Lights, and in the east!" cried Dorothy. "Oh, Aunt
Betty!"
"As I live that _is_ the east! Why, I'm all turned around. Then what
are those lights, my dear?"
"Baltimore, of course, you dear auntie."
"So soon? Why, it seems as if we have been out barely two hours."
"And we have been out but a very little more," said Jim, looking at
his watch. "It is only eleven o'clock and it was a few minutes to
nine when we left the hotel. Another half hour will put us to the
gates of Bellvieu, eh, Gerald?"
"Surely," was the response, delivered in an "I-told-you-so" tone.
Gradually they began to encounter more vehicles, the majority of
which seemed to be traveling toward the city.
"Strange those wagons are all going that way," said Aurora.
"Nothing so strange about it," said Jim. "Most of them are lumber
wagons filled with country produce, such as vegetables, eggs and
fruit. They leave the farms early in the night so as to be on hand at
the Baltimore market when it opens for business in the morning."
On they flew at a high speed, the lights ahead becoming brighter and
brighter. Soon an electric light burst before their vision off to the
right, then another, and another, until they realized that they were,
indeed, in the outskirts of Baltimore.
Gerald ran the car more slowly now, for city ordinances are very
strict, imposing a low limit on the speed of autos when within the
confines of a municipality. Gerald had never been fined for speeding
since coming into possession of an auto, and he had made up his mind
that he never would be.
Through the shopping district they went, and into a
brilliantly-lighted residence street, thence into smaller, narrower
streets as Gerald turned the big Ajax toward the shore of the bay.
Then old Bellvieu, lying dark and silent in the moonlight, a single
light twinkling from the servants' quarters in the rear, burst upon
their view. The car ran quickly along the hedge and stopped before
the gate.
Gerald looked at his watch.
"It is just eleven-thirty," he said. "I have the honor to report that
I have beaten the time I suggested by several minutes--enough to give
you time to unload your things and get to bed before the clock
strikes twelve."
Jim and Ephraim grabbed the baskets out of the big chest in the rear,
while Aunt Betty and the girls seized their other belongings. Then,
bidding Gerald and Aurora good night, with many thanks for the nice
time they had had in the new car, they went up the pathway toward the
house.
Chloe, Dinah and Metty had heard their voices, and with shouts of
delight had begun to light up the mansion. By the time the party
reached the gallery the big house looked as inviting as one could
wish.
How soft and fine the beds seemed that night to each one of the tired
camping party, for no matter how enjoyable a time they had had, they
were forced to admit that there was no place like home.