NEARLY AN ACCIDENT
"Look at the sun! Look at the sun!" cried Betty, sitting up in bed and
gazing joyfully out at the sun-drenched landscape. "Girls, for goodness
sake, wake up. How can you sleep, Grace?"
Grace groaned and opened one eye.
"House afire?" she asked sleepily.
"Of course not, Silly. But the world is."
Betty was evidently in high spirits, thought Grace, as she rolled over
and regarded her critically.
"What do you mean--'the world is'?" she inquired grumpily, managing with
great difficulty, to open the other eye. "Can't you talk sense?"
"Not on a morning like this," retorted Betty, running to the window and
thrusting her head far out into the balmy air. "Look, Lazybones, the
roads are pretty nearly dry and we couldn't ask for a more wonderful
day."
"What time is it?" queried Grace, without enthusiasm. She was always
unenthusiastic before breakfast in the morning, especially if she
happened to get to bed rather late the night before.
"Half-past six," replied Betty, turning from the window and beginning
hurriedly to gather her things together. "And we all agreed last night
to get up at six. I wonder if I'm the only one stirring."
As if in answer to her question, there came a soft tap on the door and
their hostess' voice speaking to them.
"Breakfast is almost ready," she said. "I had it prepared early
especially for you."
"That was dear of you," replied Betty, adding with the greatest of
optimism, considering that three of them were not yet out of bed: "We'll
be down in ten minutes."
Although the ten minutes stretched into fifteen, it is a tribute to
Betty's excellent generalship that the dressing of the other three girls
was managed in that time.
But perhaps the aroma of bacon floating temptingly up to them had
something to do with it after all, for they all four boasted youthfully
unimpaired appetites.
However that may be, the fact remains that in fifteen minutes from the
time Mrs. Barnes stopped at the door, four very pretty and very hungry
young girls gathered in the dining room, ready and eager for the day's
adventure. Mrs. Ford was already there.
Joe was there too, looking even more bronzed and attractive in the
morning light, and Betty, glancing at him, could scarcely believe that
what the boy had told her the night before had not been a dream. That
splendid specimen of young manhood refused the right to serve his
country because he had lung trouble! She could not even bring herself to
think that other word, that horrible word, consumption.
But there was one thing certain--she had not been mistaken in her
judgment of the night before. He might once have been the victim of
disease, but he surely was not now.
Perhaps something of what she was thinking was reflected in her eyes as
she looked at him, for he returned the glance with so much admiration in
his own that she hastily looked away and became absorbed in the bacon on
her plate.
It was a very merry breakfast and a very good one, and when the time
came at last for taking leave of their lovely hostess, they found
themselves unexpectedly reluctant to do so.
"I wish you were coming with us," said Mrs. Ford, after the lady had
waved aside her thanks for the good time they had had. "I am sure you
would enjoy the trip almost as much as we would enjoy having you with
us."
"I wish it were possible for me to go," Mrs. Barnes replied rather
wistfully, as they started down the steps to the waiting automobiles.
"It is rather lonesome out here," then, catching a glance from her son,
who was trying to carry three handbags at once, she added hastily: "But
of course I love it and would miss it awfully. Joe, be careful, dear,
you nearly dropped that bag in the dirt."
"I always thought I'd make good in the juggling profession," replied Joe
ruefully, as he skillfully recovered the bag in question, "but I guess I
was mistaken. Where do these go, Miss Billette--anywhere?" he asked,
turning to Mollie.
"Yes, just throw them in," replied Mollie, carelessly, absorbed in
testing out her engine. "Only leave room for Mrs. Ford, that's all."
Then, as Amy stopped to speak to Grace, Joe escorted Betty to her little
racer and helped her into the driver's seat, though little help Betty
needed or asked of anyone.
"It's rather a rough deal, isn't it?" he asked suddenly.
"What?" inquired Betty, surprised.
"Fate introduces us one minute, then snatches you away in the next,
before I've had time for more than a word with you."
"Why, I remember several words we've had together," laughed Betty as she
settled herself more comfortably in her seat. "Is there anything
particular you want to say to me?"
Joe started to speak, evidently thought better of it, and looked up at
her soberly.
"I've already told you more than I ever expected to tell any one," he
said, and she stretched out an eager, sympathetic little hand to him.
"I know, and I have felt very proud of that confidence," she said
earnestly.
"Then you will let me write to you and tell you how things are with me?"
"Oh, I should be so glad!" she said, and there was no doubting her
sincerity.
He had no more than time to flash her a grateful glance when Grace came
up and put an end to the conversation.
Amid expressions of friendship on both sides and laughing farewells, the
two cars slid backwards along the drive and out on to the road. Then
with a purring of engines, the little racer leaped ahead with Mollie in
close pursuit. They were off once more.
It was as Betty had said. The long clear night and the bright morning
sunshine had done much toward drying the roads and though they were
still rather sticky and slippery, the girls had no difficulty in keeping
up a good rate of speed.
"This is something like," cried Grace, as she stretched both arms above
her head and breathed deep of the balmy air. "I could be completely
happy if it weren't for one thing."
Betty had no need to ask what that one thing was, and at mention of it
her thought turned involuntarily to Allen. Was he safe or had he
too--she shuddered at the thought.
"Wasn't it strange?" she said, seeking to change the conversation and
the trend of her own thoughts at the same time, "that Joe Barnes proved
to be Mrs. Barnes' son?" It was not at all what she had intended to say,
and out of the corner of her eye she saw Grace turn and look at her
curiously.
"No, I can't see that it's so very strange," Grace said dryly. "At least
I have seen stranger things."
"Well, you know what I mean," retorted Betty, still absently. "He is
awfully nice, isn't he?"
"That's what he seemed to think of you," returned Grace slyly.
"Of course he did! Why shouldn't he?" challenged Betty, coming out of
her abstraction and smiling gayly. "I like me, myself."
"That's the worst of it," sighed Grace, turning for consolation to her
inevitable box of chocolates. "No matter how awful you are, we have to
love you just the same. Look out, Betty," as the car took a curve on
three wheels. "Goodness! you're getting to be a more expert skidder than
Mollie."
"Thanks," returned Betty, executing a bow whose grace was somewhat
impaired by the proximity of the steering wheel. "Willst hand me a
candy, Gracie, honey? Thanks. That's a good girl!"
For a long time after that they were quiet, enjoying the swift motion,
the warm wind upon their faces, the fragrance of flowers and of moist
sweet earth flung to them from the depths of the woodland.
Before they knew it, they had reached the outskirts of Bensington, then
Bensington itself, and were speeding through the queer little town
without a thought of stopping when a warning signal from Mollie's horn
brought them to an abrupt stop. Betty jumped out and ran back.
"We'll need some provisions," Mollie called to her. "Unless you and
Grace think we can reach the next town by noon."
"That's what we planned to do," Betty answered. "Grace and I thought it
would save time not to stop here--and we haven't any time to waste, you
know."
"All right," Mrs. Ford decided. "Perhaps it will be just as well, for we
shall have to put on all speed in order to reach Bluff Point before
night."
So Betty raced back to her machine and in a moment more they were off
again, fairly eating up the miles. As the roads grew dryer and dryer
beneath the scorching heat of the sun they made even better time until a
little past twelve o'clock they entered the little village of Hill
Crest.
The place boasted nothing so magnificent as a hotel, but they managed to
find a little bake shop where the rosy-cheeked country woman who worked
there made them up some delicious sandwiches, supplied them with
tempting rolls and cake, and, wonder of wonders, set upon the table a
pitcher of fresh milk.
When they had finished this rural but eminently satisfying repast, they
hurried over to the one big general store to buy a few supplies that
they would need that night. It was necessary to lay in only a limited
amount, as Grace's aunt Mary had thoughtfully left her cottage well
stocked and had informed them that eggs, chickens and vegetables of all
kinds could be had fresh from the farmers round about.
Then they were off again, eyes upon that ribbon of road in front, intent
upon reaching their destination before nightfall.
It was not till about four o'clock that they met with their first
setback.
Betty had just rounded a turn in the road, horn honking for all it was
worth, when she found herself almost on top of a huge farm wagon.
She yelled to the driver and put on her brakes hard, hoping desperately
that Mollie would not run into her from behind. Grace shrieked and
covered her face with her hands.
It was a narrow escape, for when the car had finally stopped there was
not more than about an inch between it and the wagon in front. Luckily
Mollie had been warned by the noise of the horn, and had stopped her
machine just around the turn of the road. She and Mrs. Ford and Amy came
running to see what the matter was.
Meanwhile Betty had recovered herself and was smiling apologetically up
at the frightened driver. His horses, startled by the noise and shouting
had tried to bolt, and he had had all he could do to hold them in. The
result was a slightly heated condition on the part of his temper.
"I'm sorry," Betty was saying, her voice still tremulous from the
sudden fright she had received. "I thought--"
"Yes, an' I thought too," he interrupted, in a gruff, rude tone that
whipped the color to her face. "It would be a heap better if some
folks'd think before they done things. Durned old gasoline wagons."
And, still muttering, the angry man turned and whipped up his team while
the girls stared after him dumbly.