FLAT TIRES.
When the bright red car passed the girls for the second time since their
encampment, they one and all stopped eating to watch it until it was out
of sight. Alice Endicott was the first to speak.
“Now do you believe me?” she challenged.
“Believe that they are your cousins, just because we have passed them
four times?” asked Marjorie, skeptically.
“_They have passed us_” corrected the other; “not we them.
Doesn’t it look to you as if we were being spied on?”
“No, it doesn’t,” returned Marjorie. “If it isn’t coincidence, it is
because they admire our looks!”
“But it’s too often to be coincidence,” persisted Alice.
“No it isn’t either! Once Lily and I were going somewhere for luncheon—a
place in the country, where we had to inquire our way—and do you know we
went back and forth past one miserable little house four times, just
following mistaken direction!”
“And did you finally get there?” inquired Daisy.
“Need you ask?” flashed Lily. “Aren’t we Girl Scouts?”
“Well, these young men don’t look to me like the sort who get lost,”
said Alice. “What do you think, Mrs. Remington?”
“I think it’s because I am chaperoning an exceedingly attractive party
of girls!” replied their leader.
“You flatterer!” laughed Marjorie. “Well, all we can do is wait and see.
Probably they’ll never turn up again.”
“But if Mrs. Remington is right, and they like our looks,” reasoned
Lily, “they are probably watching for some chance to make our
acquaintance, and we’ll see them again.”
“On the contrary, have you noticed that they haven’t made any attempt to
talk to us!” Alice reminded them. “Even in the tea-room,... However, if
they ever do, let’s make a violent effort to get hold of their visiting
cards, to see whether they are my cousins.”
“I’ll agree to that,” said Marjorie, “if you’ll all agree to turn in
early. I’m dead, myself!”
The scouts needed no persuading, and as soon as the twilight had faded
they made their preparations for the night. Nor did the problem of the
young men in their possible pursuit disturb their dreams; they all slept
soundly until the sun came up. Marjorie was the first to awake.
“Me for a swim!” she cried, after she had succeeded in arousing the
other girls. “Lil, where did you put my suit?”
“All the way in the bottom of the bag, I’m afraid,” came the sleepy
reply. “Why not wait till tomorrow, Marj?”
“And there may be no stream near!” returned the other. “No indeed, I’m
going into every single fish-pond I can find here in the east, because I
understand that we don’t come across them so frequently west of the
Mississippi.”
The argument was conclusive, and, with the exception of Mrs. Remington,
who offered to start breakfast, the girls all took advantage of their
opportunity and plunged in. They found the water cool and delightful,
and, as they swam about, they almost imagined themselves at one of the
scout camps again. At first they tried to keep their hair from getting
wet, but at last they abandoned the effort in favor of having a really
good time—and incidentally washing their hair as well.
“The only thing that bothers me,” remarked Ethel, “is that I spent a
perfectly good dollar for a shampoo day before yesterday, and here I
could have a free one today!”
“Too bad about you!” laughed Florence. “But don’t you remember, Ethel,
that we are so rich now that we don’t need to let mere money cares worry
us?”
“Very true—I had forgotten,” admitted Ethel. “It’s a sort of shock to
become fabulously rich over night, isn’t it?”
“How about when we become fabulously poor again?” asked Alice. “Won’t
that be a jolt?”
“I guess we’ll survive,” observed Marjorie, making her way towards the
bank of the stream. “Well, girls, I’m through—I want my breakfast! I’m
going back to dress, so that I can help Mrs. Remington.”
Half an hour later, when they gathered for the second time around the
camp-fire, and smelled the delicious odors arising from bacon and hot
coffee, they were subtly conscious of the return of that old spirit of
comradeship which meant so much to them all. It was so pleasant to be
together again—and under such happy circumstances.
“If everything goes as well as it has begun,” remarked Lily, “we
certainly will have a lovely trip.”
“And it’s going to go well,” said Marjorie with assurance. “There’s
nothing to worry us, unless it is a little rain. But who cares for
that?”
“Nobody!” cried two or three of the girls at once.
“Our cars are certainly the pink of perfection,” added Lily. “Both of
them are in such good condition that nothing short of an accident could
make them go wrong.”
“And even the tires are brand new, so we needn’t expect any punctures,”
put in Ethel.
“Wouldn’t it be funny,” chuckled Alice, “if those young men really are
spies sent by Aunt Emeline, and if they find that we do everything like
clockwork, and have to give her an even better report than we would care
to give ourselves!”
“Then let’s be starting again,” urged Marjorie, rising with a sudden
display of energy. “And keep up our good beginning.”
They changed shifts now, Florence taking the driver’s seat in Lily’s
roadster, and Ethel assuming command of the larger car. Again the
weather was bright and clear, and a smooth road stretched before them.
The girls looked forward to another delightful day.
“I wonder whether we shall get tired of riding,” remarked Marjorie, who
was enjoying the luxury of a seat in the tonneau. “I don’t believe I
shall, even after three thousand miles.”
“I don’t believe any of us will if we don’t try to rush too much,”
replied Mrs. Remington. “If we rest on Sundays, and don’t attempt to go
too far in a day, and stop off at Mae’s—”
“Won’t that be delightful!” exclaimed Alice. “Aren’t you girls all crazy
to see her new home? Chauffeur—” She touched Ethel on the
shoulder—“drive fast so that we can get there by Saturday.”
“There’s no danger about that,” Marjorie reassured her, consulting her
schedule for perhaps the fiftieth time. “We’re surer than a railroad—”
“Sh! Marj! Don’t boast!” warned Lily. “Don’t tempt Providence! I too am
wild to see Mae’s home.”
“It sounds as if it is very gorgeous,” said Alice. “Do you suppose she
is as happy as Doris?”
“I guess so,” replied Lily. “Say, Marj, don’t you remember what I said
last year about losing one girl by marriage every year? It looks as if
my prophecy were coming true, doesn’t it?”
“No, I won’t admit that,” answered Marjorie. “Just because we have had
two weddings is no sign we’ll have more. The other six of the patrol are
all college girls, and, as I remarked before, I don’t think that any of
us are planning on getting married before we graduate. How about it
girls?”
The other two girls in the machine instantly agreed with her, and
Marjorie turned triumphantly again to Lily.
“You see, Lil, nobody will oblige you by getting married next
year—unless you do it yourself, just to carry out your theory. But I
don’t think that would be fair, after you promised to room with me at
college.”
“Oh, you needn’t worry about me,” laughed Lily. “I’m safe.”
The loud blowing of a horn behind them attracted their attention and
caused Ethel to pull her car sharply over to the right. A second later,
to their astonished eyes, the bright red car with its two male occupants
went whizzing by.
“There!” cried Alice, excitedly. “Doesn’t that prove it?”
But the others were too much amazed to make an attempt to answer the
question.
“But why, I wonder,” demanded Lily, “should they always insist upon
passing us at such a tremendous rate of speed?”
“I know!” exclaimed Alice. “They have to get to the next telegraph
office to send Aunt Emeline her report on our progress.”
“Well, I’m sorry to spoil your story, Alice,” said Marjorie; “but I’m
afraid that I don’t believe a word of it. These young men are probably
bootleggers—”
“Then we’d better get the boys on their trail, as we did last summer!”
“Oh, girls, let’s forget them,” said Ethel. “As long as everything goes
well, what do we care about the other travellers along the road? They’re
not hurting us!”
“No, nothing’s going to hurt us!” boasted Marjorie, but hardly were the
words out of her mouth than the first unmistakable signal of distress
appeared. A dull, ominous knocking in the rear of the car, sounded
distinct above the noise of their conversation, and the whir of the
machinery. Ethel stopped the automobile immediately, and the girls
looked at each other in dismay.
“It’s a puncture, I’m sure!” pronounced Lily. “That old familiar sound—”
“But how could it be with such lovely new tires?” demanded Alice,
resentfully.
No one answered her question, for a moment while the girls all jumped
out of the car.
“Two punctures!” Ethel flung out. “Both back tires flat!”
“But how—?” insisted Alice, still more incredulously.
“I’ve found one cause!” announced Marjorie. She held up a large tack,
which she had just extracted from the left tire.
“Then there must be one in the right, also,” commented Ethel. “Well,
girls, let’s don’t lose any time, for the tires may be stiff—the car’s
new, you know—and they’ve never been changed. We’ll need every single
person to help!”
“If we only had a couple of the boys!” sighed Alice.
“And forfeit our trip, and the cars we are to win?” demanded Marjorie.
“Come, cheer up, Alice. It’s not such a bad job; you only think so
because you have never done it. I’m going to show you how.”
But as Ethel had intimated, the task was more difficult than they had
anticipated, and nearly an hour went by before it was completed. In that
time a good many machines passed them, and a number stopped to offer
assistance. But the girls resolutely refused them all.
It was only after the tools were all put away, and the party ready to
set off again that Marjorie suddenly realized that the Rolls-Royce,
which had continued to travel behind them, had not passed them during
the preceding hour.
“What do you suppose could have happened?” she asked.
“Probably, punctures, like us,” surmised Ethel “Tacks, you know.”
“But my car’s tires are easy to change,” objected Lily.
“Not easy for novices,” said Mrs. Remington. “Do you think that perhaps
we had better turn back?”
“Oh, no,” replied Ethel; “we’re too liable to run over the same tacks
again. Anyway, the girls have to learn. I’ll drive slowly, and probably
they will catch up to us.”
“If they haven’t been kidnapped by the occupants of the red car,”
observed Alice.
“No,” said Marjorie, slowly, straining her eyes in the distance;
“because the red car—is—coming towards us now!”
A minute later the mysterious car passed them again, amid a cloud of
smoke.