THUNDER AND MUD
"You don't mean it's raining!" cried Grace, holding out a hand to see
for herself. "Oh, dear, and we have several miles to go before we even
reach the outskirts of Bensington. What shall we do now?"
"I don't know," answered Betty, while a worried frown wrinkled her
pretty forehead. "I don't know just how far out we are. Oh, there's a
signboard. What does it say, Gracie? You can read it better than I."
"Ten miles to Bensington," Grace read, leaning far out of the car. "Oh
Betty, we can't possibly make it! Listen to that!"
"That" was an ominous rumble of thunder, and Betty's pretty forehead
puckered still more.
"Well, we can at least put the top up," she said practically. "That will
keep the worst of it off anyway, and if we hurry we may have a chance of
beating it yet."
Betty brought the car to a stop, jumped out on the road with Grace at
her heels, and waited for Mollie to come up. They had not long to wait
for a moment later Mollie stopped her car with a grinding of brakes and
came running up to her chums.
"I was wondering how long you were going to ignore the warnings of
nature," she said, with a little grimace. "That cloud has been growing
with horrible rapidity for the last five minutes. What are your plans,
Captain?" and she favored Betty with a true military salute.
"I wish I had some," said the latter, cocking a still more anxious eye
at the threatening cloud. "And all I've been able to think of so far is
the very original idea of putting up the top."
"And side curtains," supplemented Mollie, with a chuckle. "Strange as it
may seem, even I have been favored with that inspiration."
"Well, let's get busy," suggested Amy, with practical, though slangy,
emphasis. "We're apt to get drowned while we stand here talking."
It was easy to see by the way they went to work that the girls agreed
with her. Even Mrs. Ford gave willing, though inexperienced, aid, and in
a very short time they had lifted the tops, adjusted the side curtains
and made all snug for the expected downpour.
Nor did they have very much time to spare. While they had been working,
the thunder had grown louder and more insistent and now the rain began
to fall in earnest.
"Duck!" cried Betty inelegantly, and they ran for shelter.
"Well," said Betty, as she pressed the self-starter and the engine
purred evenly, "it's bad, but it might be a good deal worse. We can't
get wet unless it's an unusually heavy downpour."
"Oh, it isn't getting wet that bothers me so much," said Grace, and
Betty looked at her in surprise. "It's the roads," she added by way of
explanation. "I've heard Aunt Mary say that they have terribly heavy
storms in this part of the country, and sometimes in half an hour the
roads get almost impassable. Many a machine has been known to sink three
or four inches in mud, and sometimes they get in so deep they have to be
hauled out."
"What a cheerful prospect!" cried Betty, dismayed, adding, as the rain
beat against the windshield in steady, driving sheets: "Especially as
this storm bids fair to be a record breaker. Look how muddy the roads
are already."
"And we haven't passed more than two or three wagons all the way out,"
wailed Grace. "And they didn't look strong enough to pull a toy machine
out. Oh, Betty, look out!"
The admonition was occasioned by a seemingly sudden wild desire on the
part of the car to stand on two wheels while it waved the other two
spinningly in the air.
Betty, though undeniably frightened, succeeded in persuading the erring
wheels to the muddy road again. Then she slackened her speed and began
to laugh hysterically.
"I don't see anything to laugh about," protested Grace, still breathless
with apprehension.
"Neither do I," admitted Betty, adding whimsically. "But I had either to
laugh or cry, so I decided to laugh. After all, you must admit, it was a
wonderful skid."
"The best of its kind," admitted Grace dryly. "But please don't try it
again, Honey, it has a wearing effect on my nerves!"
They were silent for a while after that, while Betty regarded the
increasingly muddy road ahead of her with anxious eyes. She had been
forced to slacken her speed more and more until now they were barely
crawling along.
"I'm afraid we're in an awfully tight fix," she said at last. "We're
just plowing through this mud, and if it's hard on us, what must it be
for Mollie, whose car is twice as heavy as this. Look behind, will you,
Gracie, and see how she's coming along?"
"She is just coming, and that's all," reported Grace, after a prolonged
scrutiny through the rain-glazed window. "Goodness, we've been out in
storms before, but I never saw anything like this. And listen to that
thunder--o-oh!"
A terrific clap of thunder caused Grace to clap her hands over her ears
with a little moan, while even steady-nerved Betty jumped in her seat
and took a tighter grip of the steering wheel.
"Oh, what shall we do!" cried Grace, for she hated a thunderstorm worse
than she hated anything else on earth. "We can't go on this way, Betty.
We're likely to get struck any moment."
"Well, I don't see that we'll be any less likely to get struck if we
stand still," retorted Betty, a little sharply, for the situation was
becoming wearing, to say the least. "If you can suggest any way that we
can get out of this fix--" the sentence was cut short by a still louder
and more terrifying clap of thunder.
Grace huddled in her seat, miserably trying not to die of fright.
"Is Mollie still following us?" asked Betty, after an interval of weird
flashes, crashing thunder, and rain beating relentlessly against the
glass in front and turning the road to a sea of mud. "If she should get
stuck I don't know what we would do."
"Yes, she's still struggling," replied Grace. "But it's getting so dark
I can't more than just make out the lines of the car. Oh, Betty, don't
you suppose we must be pretty close to Bensington?"
"No, I don't," Betty replied wearily. "You see how we've been
traveling--not more than a snail's pace, and it won't be very long
before we shall have to stop altogether. I'm surprised that Mollie has
been able to keep going so long. You will have to keep your eye on her
all the time, now, Grace, since it is getting so dark. We don't want to
lose her."
"But," Grace suggested hesitantly, "I don't see that we could do them
very much good by staying here with them, if they do get stuck. Wouldn't
it be better to go on and try to make Bensington? Then we could send
help back to them."
"I've thought of that," said Betty simply, "and it would work all right
provided we did manage to reach Bensington. But the probability is that
we would be forced to stop a little further on, and I must say I don't
exactly enjoy the prospect of spending the night alone on this deserted
road."
Grace shivered, but answered with a nervous little laugh: "I don't know
but what we would be safe enough at that. If we can't get through,
probably nobody else could."
"Just the same," said Betty decidedly, "I think I would rather cling to
the old theory that there is safety in numbers. Besides, probably your
mother would rather decide that for us. Are they still coming, Grace?"
"Goodness, you remind me of Bluebeard's wife," Grace laughed
hysterically. "I thought you were going to say, 'Sister Anne, Sister
Anne, do you see a man'?"
"Well, I see something better than a man," cried Betty suddenly,
straining her eyes through the darkness and the streaming windshield.
"Grace honey, do my eyes deceive me, or is that a light?"
"A light!" cried Grace excitedly. "Oh, Betty, where--wait--yes, I see
it! It is a light! And there's another! Two lighted windows! Betty,
honey, we're saved!"
"It's a house!" cried Betty jubilantly, while the hand that held the
steering wheel shook with relief. "You darling, wonderful house. Gracie,
dear, I think it showed on the horizon just in the nick of time. Look
behind once more."
"Yes, they're still coming. Oh, if they only don't get stuck in front of
the door!"
"Don't be a goose, Gracie," chided Betty, feeling in hilarious spirits
now that the end of their trouble was in sight. "You ought to get down
on your knees in thankfulness that there is a front door to get stuck in
front of!"
"Oh, is that so?" mocked Grace, her own spirits reviving at the prospect
of relief. "Well, I'm thankful enough, but I certainly don't intend to
get down on my knees about it. There isn't room in here and you can see
it's too muddy outside!"
Two minutes later Betty swung the little car from the, by this time,
almost impassable road on to a gloriously graveled driveway that led up
to the hospitably lighted house.
"Now, if whoever lives here will only let us in," she sighed, as she
stopped the car and glanced behind to be sure Mollie was following them,
"we'll have nothing left to ask for."
"Except something to eat," amended Grace hungrily. "I thought I had
eaten enough lunch to last me a week, but I see I'm muchly mistaken.
What shall we do, Betty?" as the latter started to open the curtain and
closed it quickly again as the rain beat in upon them. "We are apt to
get soaked just running that little distance to the porch."
"And the umbrellas are all wrapped up in the back of Mollie's car,"
lamented Betty, then added, with sudden decision: "I guess unless we
want to sit here all night we'd better chance it. I for one am so
hungry I'd be willing to brave more than a rain for the sake of
something to eat."
"I'd say so!" groaned Grace, again reminded of her own state of
starvation. "You get out your side Betty and I'll get out mine and we'll
make a quick dash for it."
[Illustration: GRACE AND BETTY MADE A QUICK DASH FOR SHELTER. _The
Outdoor Girls at Bluff Point._ _Page 83._]
So they lifted the curtains and slipped out, thankful for the gravel
walk that, while it was wet and slippery, was still a delightful
contrast to the muddy sea of road they had left. They ran head down
against the blinding rain, and gained the bottom step of the porch at
the same time.
A moment more, and they had climbed to the shelter of the porch itself,
out of breath but jubilant.
"Thank goodness!" cried Grace.
"And here come your mother and Mollie and Amy," chuckled Betty as the
trio followed their example and raced for the porch. "I guess none of
them ever knew she could run so fast in her life before. Hello, folks.
Beautiful weather, isn't it?" she inquired gayly, as the three
scrambled, panting, up on the porch. "You seem in a terrible hurry to
get somewhere."
"Speak for yourself, John," gasped Mollie, shaking out her wet skirts
and trying to regain some of her dignity by putting her hat on straight.
"If you could know what I've been through for the last hour, just
coaxing the car along an inch at a time--"
"Well," laughed Betty, as she turned to the front door and pushed the
bell, "I've been through a little bit of everything, myself, for the
last few hours, except a good square meal. And, judging from the
delightful aroma that hovers about this place," she added sniffing
hungrily, "I shouldn't wonder if that oversight wouldn't be swiftly
remedied!"
Then the door opened and a tall, gray-haired lady stood in the lighted
doorway.