QUEER COBBLERS
"Isn't she disappointing?" remarked Hazel.
"Very," answered Cora.
"To think that she should leave us for a patient!"
"I cannot understand it."
"I have heard that girls not home raised are like that--they have no
sentiment."
"Nor honor, either!"
"Well, she didn't think she was bound to go with us, and, of course,
there was money besides reputation in being on the spot when the hotel
owners would arrive. But I am disappointed."
"I hope the boys will not feel obliged to return for her," and Cora's
lip curled slightly. "She is such a good business woman she ought to
be able to get to the Berkshires from here."
"Walter seems enthralled," and Hazel laughed. "I wonder how Jack got
him to leave her?"
They were on the road again, and Miss Robbins, the physician, the
business woman, the chaperon, had stayed behind to take care of those
who had been injured in the explosion. There were good doctors within
call, but she simply would stay, and saw no reason why the girls should
not go on alone. To her the idea of being obligated to them was not to
be thought of when a matter like professional business came up. Of
course, this was a general disappointment, for the girls would never
have entrusted themselves to her patronage if they had not felt certain
that she would keep her word with them. However, the fact was that
they were on the road again, and Regina Robbins was happy on the sunny
porch of the big hotel, incidentally attending to a cut or two on one
man's face and a bad-looking burn on the arm of another.
Bess and Belle were driving along, "their faces as long as fiddles," as
Cora said. The boys had taken the lead, and they were having their own
trouble trying to convince Walter that Miss Robbins had "dumped" the
girls, and that it was a "low-down trick."
The _Whirlwind_ glided along apparently happy under the firm hand of
its fair owner. The _Flyaway_ seemed, too, to be glad of a chance to
get away again, and as Bess threw in the third speed, according to
commands from Jack, who was leading, the little silver machine darted
away like an arrow freed from the bow.
The day was wonderfully clear after the rain, and even the sunshine had
been polished up by the scouring of the mighty storm of late summer.
"I shouldn't care so much," Belle confided to her twin sister, "but
when we get to Lenox alone, without a chaperon, what will people say?"
"Well, Tinkle, we have not got there yet. Maybe we may pick up a
chaperon between this and that."
"If we only could! Where do we stop tonight?"
"Wherever we get."
So they sped on. Mile after mile was lapped up in the dust of the
motors. Out through Connecticut, over the line into Massachusetts, and
along the splendid roads that border the Housatonic River.
Houses were becoming scarcer and fewer; it was now largely a matter of
woodlands and roads.
"We have to make time now," called Cora to the twins. "The boys say we
should get to Pittsfield by evening."
"To Pittsfield! Why, that's----"
"About a hundred," called Cora again. "Look out for your shoes, and
don't be reckless on the turns. Stripping your differential just now
would be fatal."
"All right," responded Bess, "but mine is not the only car in the race."
"Thanks," called back Cora, "and now we will clear off. Good-by!"
The _Whirlwind_ shot ahead. Jack's car was clear of the
other--Walter's, and as the run had to be made against time it was best
for each machine to have "room to look around it."
"Oh!" gasped Hazel, as Cora swerved around a sharp bend, "I don't fancy
this sort of riding."
"But we have to get to a large town before night. It's all right. The
roads are so clear."
On they flew. Only the shrieking of Jack's siren and the groaning of
the deep horn on Walter's car gave messages to the girls.
Several miles were covered in silence, and then they came to a
signboard. It told that the main road was closed, and that they must
take to a side road--a highway that was fairly good, but much more
lonely.
"I suppose we'll get back to the main road before a great while," said
Cora.
"I hope so," returned Bess. "This looks dreadfully lonely, doesn't it?"
"Don't think about it," came from her sister.
On they went, the way becoming wilder each instant. Yet the road
itself was fairly smooth, so that it was not necessary to slacken the
speed of the cars.
"Something really smells hot," said Hazel. "Could anything ignite?"
"Not exactly," replied Cora, "but we don't want to get too hot. It
makes trouble."
She slackened just a bit to make sure that Hazel's anxiety had no
foundation in fact, for, indeed, the big machine was using its engine
and gas to the utmost capacity.
Just ahead the glare of the _Comet_ could be seen as it plunged into a
deep turn in a deeper lined wood. Jack, in his _Get-There_, was after
the first, and then the girls had difficulty even in getting a
responding sound from the toots and the blasts which all were
continually sounding.
"They are away ahead," said Bess. "I thought they had seen enough of
getting too far away from us. How do we know but that we might meet
the gypsies on this lonely road?"
"I wonder if it is late or early for motorists?" asked Cora of Hazel.
"We haven't met a single party."
"Just happened so, I suppose," said Hazel. "Surely people out here
must enjoy this sort of weather."
"Listen!"
Cora gave three sharp blasts on her horn, but no answer came. "The
boys are getting too far ahead.
"I will have to accelerate----," she called.
She pressed down the pedal and bent over the wheel as if urging the
machine to its utmost. Then there was jolt--a roar! a bang! Cora
jammed on brakes.
"A shoe is gone!" she cried. "Exploded!"
Without the slightest warning a big tire overheated, had ripped clear
off the front wheel, the inner tube exploded, and the car had almost
gone into a ditch when Cora stopped it.
Bess had seen the trouble, and was able to halt her car far enough away
to avoid a collision.
"Isn't that dreadful!" cried Cora, her face as white as the tie at her
throat. "It ripped off just from speed!"
"Can't it be fixed?" asked Hazel, who now was out beside Cora.
"Oh, of course! but how and when? I have another shoe, but to get it
on, and the boys, as usual, out of sight!"
She had pulled off her gloves and was looking at the split tire. It
was marvelous that it should have come off so clean--simply peeled.
"And it's five o'clock," said Belle, with her usual unfortunate way of
saying something to make things worse.
"But it isn't midnight," almost snapped Cora.
"Let's try to call the boys," suggested Belle. "Aren't they dreadful
to get so far away?"
"Very rude," and Cora showed some sarcasm. "But the thing to do right
now is not to wait for anybody, but to get to work. Bess, can you help
me slip in a tube and put on a shoe?"
"I never have, but, of course, I'll try," and she, too, pulled off her
gloves.
Cora quickly opened up the tool box, got out the jack, and then she
unbuckled the shoe that was fast at the side of the _Whirlwind_.
"I always thought folks carried them to ornament the cars," said Hazel,
with an attempt at good nature, "but it seems that a cobbler is the
thing we ought to carry for an ornament. We really don't need him, but
we do need new shoes."
"How long will it take?" asked Belle.
"There's no telling," replied Cora. "It isn't exactly like putting a
belt on a sewing machine."
She handled the inner tube freely enough, and soon had it in the big
rubber shoe, partly inflated.
"Easy as putting tape in a jelly bag," remarked Hazel.
"But we must get it on now and blow it up," said Cora. "Bess, get the
pump."
The pump was gotten, after which, with much exertion, the shoe was on
the rim, and then the blowing began. This was not so easily
accomplished as had been the other parts of the mechanical operation.
First Bess pumped, then Belle tried it. Hazel was sure she could do
it, for she often blew up Paul's bicycle, but this tire would not blow
full.
The girls were rapidly losing their complexions. Such strenuous
efforts!
"Oh, that's hard enough," declared Bess, trying to push her pretty
fingers into the rubber.
"Yes," answered Cora, pressing on the tire, which sank with the
pressure, "it's about as hard as rice pudding!"
"How many pounds?" insisted Bess.
Cora looked at the gauge. "Sixty. I have got to have a full ninety
for this car."
"Then I don't see how we are going to get it!"
Cora did not heed the discouragement. She was pumping now, and the
shoe was becoming rigid. "If I get it a little harder I'll call it
done!" she panted, "though we may ditch the car next time."