ONE IS A HEROINE
When the girls invited to Evangeline Sitz's "party" hurried out of
Central High on Monday afternoon, they found, as Laura Belding had
promised, her father's automobile, as well as one of Mr. Purcell's big,
three-seated "lumber barges," as the boys called Centerport's
sight-seeing autos. There were three seats behind the driver's, each
wide enough for four persons.
Laura and Chet (the latter of whom drove the Belding machine) had their
own close friends in the smaller auto, and it was well filled. Mr.
Purcell stood by the chauffeur of the big car as the Lockwood twins
whisked into the front seat, completely filling it. Dora and Dorothy
always preferred to keep together, and nobody could get between them
here.
The girls heard the automobile owner ask the driver:
"How do you feel now, Bennie? All right?"
"Pretty good, Boss," said the man, who, the twins noticed, was pale.
"Sure you can make it all right? If you feel bad, say so, and I'll take
your place."
"I'll be all right, Boss, once we get moving," said the chauffeur.
"Oh, look who's here!" whispered Dorothy, suddenly, to her sister,
pinching her arm to attract her attention.
"It's Pretty!" gasped Dora. "Isn't he a vision of loveliness?"
The dandy of the school came mincing along the sidewalk with the evident
intention of joining the auto party. He had been excused from classes
early to go home and "rig up" for the occasion; and he certainly was--as
Lance Darby said from the head automobile--"a sight for gods and men!"
Prettyman Sweet wore a white flannel coat and trousers, with a very fine
line of blue running through the goods lengthwise. He wore a canvas hat
and canvas shoes, cut low to show open-work crimson silk socks--oh, they
were dreams of the hosier's art! He wore a flowing crimson tie, too, and
around his waist, instead of an ordinary belt, he wore a new-fangled,
knitted, crimson sash-belt, the like of which none of the boys of
Central High had ever beheld before.
"Oh, Purt! where did you get it?" cried Lance Darby.
"You're fixed up to flag a freight, with all that red on you," said
Chet.
"And where _did_ you get that gorgeous sash, Mr. Sweet?" demanded
"Bobby" Hargrew, who was a tease by nature, and had the sharpest tongue
of any girl at Central High.
"Oh, now, Miss Clara," said Purt Sweet, carefully climbing into the seat
directly behind the twins. "This is the very latest thing--weally! I
sent clear to New York for it. You see, it's not so stiff and hard
looking as a leather belt. This--er--lends a softness to the whole
costume that is--er--quite unobtainable with a belt."
"Oh, gee!" gasped Bobby. "It's soft enough, all right, all right!" and
the rest laughed as they piled into the machine.
Purt sat with his back to the twins, and was explaining to the girl
beside him that he did not mind riding backward at all. Bobby was still
on the ground, and as Dora and Dorothy looked down at her they saw the
mischievous one suddenly reach up her thumb and finger and pick at a
little frayed place upon the edge of Purt's beautiful sash.
The thing was knitted loosely of some kind of mercerized cotton, and
when Bobby seized the end of a broken strand the sash began to unravel
with marvelous rapidity. She grinned up at the twins delightedly, and
continued to pull on the thread.
"All aboard, young folks!" cried Mr. Purcell. "You ready forward, there,
Mr. Chetwood?"
"All right," returned Chet, tripping his self-starter.
Mr. Purcell stooped to crank up his big machine. Bobby, her eyes
dancing, also stooped beside the front wheel for a moment, and then
whisked into her seat, facing Purt Sweet. But the twins saw what she had
done. She had fastened the end of the crimson thread to the head of a
bolt upon the wheelbox.
"All right, Bennie!" said Mr. Purcell, stepping back and waving his
hand. The big machine began to tremble and shake, and then they pulled
out behind the Belding car. There was a lot of noise, and laughter, and
fun; but nobody seemed so hilarious as Clara Hargrew and the Lockwood
twins.
"Can't you keep your eyes off Purt, Bobby?" demanded the girl sitting
next to the Sweet boy. "What's the matter with him?"
"No--nothing!" chortled Bobby, stuffing her handkerchief into her mouth.
But she was watching that red thread shooting down to the wheel and
winding around and around the box, faster and faster as the big machine
got under way. By the time the auto turned into Market Street a great
ball of the red worsted, or whatever it was, had formed on the inside of
the wheel, and the perfectly unconscious Prettyman Sweet was fast losing
his beautiful crimson sash.
The knitted part of the sash overlaid a belt of canvas which really did
the service of holding up the exquisite's trousers. But fast, fast
indeed, the red thread was running out.
Others saw the unraveling yarn, and joined Bobby and the twins in
hilarious laughter. Then a man walking on the sidewalk espied the
growing ball of thread on the wheel and followed the strand to its
source. His happy chortles attracted the attention of other pedestrians,
and soon the big automobile was being accompanied by a chorus of shouts
from small boys in the streets, and laughter from an ever-increasing
number of bystanders.
"What do you suppose is the matter with all these people?" demanded the
unconscious Purt. "I never did see the like. Weally! It's too
widiculous."
"That's what it is!" laughed Bobby.
"Why!" exclaimed Purt, "they weally seem to see something about us to
laugh at! What can it be?"
"Must be you, Purt," said one of the boys.
"Widiculous! There is nothing about me to laugh at, dear boy."
"Huh!" grunted his schoolmate. "You're one big laugh all the time,
Pretty, only you don't know it!"
The way to the farm where the young people were bound was out Market
Street to the east, and then through the winding road which bisected
Robinson's Woods and up into the hills. Mr. Sitz was a Swiss, and had
been used to hilly farms in his youth; therefore the "up hill and down
dale" nature of his farming land near Centerport did not trouble him in
the least. He and Otto, his son, and the hands he hired, made good crops
upon the hilly farm, and the Sitzes were becoming well to do.
In the front auto Laura was speaking about Eve Sitz.
"She's such a big, muscular girl. If she comes to Central High next
fall, as I want her to, she'll help us greatly in athletics. You see,
she'll enter as a junior, and be in our classes. And she can pull an oar
already--and what a fine guard she'd make at basketball! She's a lot
lighter on her feet than Hester Grimes, or Mary O'Rourke, in spite of
the fact that she's so big."
"Bully!" exclaimed Jess. "She can cut out Hessie, then."
Suddenly Lance, who looked back, raised a shout of surprise and terror.
"Look at that! What's happened to the other car! Stop, Chet!"
The young folks in the Belding car sprang up and looked back. They were
just in time to see the man who drove the sight-seeing car fall sidewise
from his seat, and slip down until half of his body lay upon the step.
He had dropped the wheel and the heavy car was running wild.
The two cars were out of the city now, and running upon a lonely bit of
road. The Belding car was, indeed, half way down the long slope, which
the heavier one had just begun to descend. The big auto began to wabble
from side to side, and those ahead saw one of the Lockwood twins seize
the man who had fallen and drag him back into the car. But, meanwhile,
the car itself was running away.
Faster and faster it rolled down the hill, and its course was so erratic
that those in the first car almost held their breath. The expectation
was that the big car would collide with a telegraph pole beside the
road, or go into the ditch on the other side.
"Stop, Chet!" yelled Lance again.
But if Chet Belding stopped his car, he knew that the other might run
them down. He dared not run that risk.
"Grab the wheel! Shut off the power! Brake her!" yelled Lance, wildly
waving his arms at the crowd behind. "Some of you fellows do something!"
But the boy nearest to the steering gear of the big machine was Purt
Sweet--and Purt scarcely knew enough about an automobile to keep from
being run over by one!
"Oh!" cried Laura, "they will be hurt! There! it's going to smash into
that tree----"
But suddenly they saw one of the twins dive into the chauffeur's seat.
She seized the wheel and guided the big machine into the straight road
again. Then she manipulated the levers and quickly brought the
shuddering car to a stop. The driver still lay motionless.
"Oh, oh!" cried Jess, hopping out of the Belding car when Chet
stopped it, and running back. "She stopped it! You're a real
heroine--Dorothy--Dora--whichever one you are."
But the Lockwood twins looked at each other quickly and that
understanding glance made the girl who had played the heroine say:
"It doesn't matter which one of us did it, Jess. We'll divide the heroic
act between us. But let's see what's the matter with this poor man; he's
fainted, I believe."