DICK PHELPS
The travellers did not rise early the next morning, and ten o'clock found
them still seated at the breakfast table.
"I do hate to hurry," said Mrs. Farrington, comfortably sipping her
coffee. "So many people think that an automobile tour means getting up
early, and hustling off at daybreak."
"I'm glad those are your sentiments," said Patty, "for I quite agree with
you. I've done enough hustling the last month or two, and I'm delighted
to take things more slowly for a change."
"I think," said Mr. Farrington, "that as it is such a pleasant day, it
would be a good plan to take some luncheon with us and picnic by the
roadside. We could then get to the Warners'in time for dinner, though
perhaps a little late."
"Lovely!" cried Elise, "I'm perfectly crazy to use that new luncheon-kit.
It's great, Patty! It has the cunningest alcohol stove, and every little
contraption you could possibly think of."
"I know it," said Patty. "I peeped inside yesterday, and the array of
forks and spoons and plates and bottles was perfectly fascinating."
"Very well," said Mrs. Farrington to her husband, "ask them to fill the
kit properly, and I think myself we will enjoy a little picnic."
So Mr. Farrington went to see about the provisions, and Roger to get the
car ready, while the ladies sauntered about the piazza.
The route of their journey lay along the shore of Long Island Sound, and
the hotel where they had stayed over night was not far from New Haven,
and quite near the water's edge.
Patty was very fond of the water, and gazed with delight at the sparkling
Sound, dotted with white steamers and various sorts of fishing-craft. For
her part she would have been glad to stay longer at this hotel, but the
Warners, whom they were going to visit, were expecting them to dinner that
evening. These people, Patty knew, lived in a beautiful country place
called "Pine Branches," which was near Springfield in Massachusetts. Patty
did not know the Warners, but Elise had assured her that they were
delightful people and were prepared to give her a warm welcome.
When the car came to the door the ladies were all ready to continue the
journey. They had again donned their queer-looking motor-clothes, and
though Patty was beginning to get used to their appearance, they still
seemed to her like a trio of brownies or other queer beings as they took
their seats in the car.
Roger climbed to his place, touched a lever by his side, and swung the
car down the drive with an air of what seemed to Patty justifiable pride.
The freshly cleaned car was so daintily spick and span, the day was so
perfect, and the merry-hearted passengers in such a gay and festive mood,
that there was indeed reason for a feeling of general satisfaction.
Away they went at a rapid speed, which Patty thought must be beyond the
allowed limit, but Roger assured her to the contrary.
For many miles their course lay along a fine road which followed the
shore of the Sound. This delighted Patty, as she was still able to gaze
out over the blue water, and at the same time enjoy the wonderful motion
of the car.
But soon their course changed and they turned inland, on the road to
Hartford. Patty was surprised at Roger's knowledge of the way, but the
young man was well provided with road maps and guidebooks, of which he
had made careful study.
"How beautifully the car goes," said Patty. "It doesn't make the least
fuss, even on the upgrades."
"You must learn the vocabulary, Patty," said Roger. "When a machine goes
smoothly as The Fact is doing now, the proper expression is that it runs
sweetly."
"Sweetly!" exclaimed Patty. "How silly. It sounds like a gushing girl."
"That doesn't matter," said Roger, serenely. "If you go on motor trips,
you must learn to talk motor-jargon."
"All right," said Patty, "I'm willing to learn, and I do think the way
this car goes it is just too sweet for anything!"
They all laughed at this, but their gaiety was short-lived, for just then
there was a peculiar crunching sound that seemed to mean disaster,
judging from the expressions of dismay on the faces of the Farrington
family.
"What is it?" asked Patty, forgetting that she had been told never to ask
questions on such occasions.
"Patty," said Roger, making a comical face at her, "my countenance now
presents an expression typical of disgust, irritation, and impatience. I
now wave my right hand thus, which is a Delsarte gesture expressing
exasperation with a trace of anger. I next give voice to my sentiments,
merely to remark in my usual calm and disinterested way, that a belt has
broken and the mending thereof will consume a portion of time, the length
of which may be estimated only after it has elapsed."
Patty laughed heartily at this harangue, but gathered from Roger's
nonsense the interesting fact that an accident had occurred, and that a
delay was inevitable. Nobody seemed especially surprised. Indeed, they
took it quite as a matter of course, and Mrs. Farrington opened a new
magazine which she had brought with her, and calmly settled herself to
read.
But Elise said, "Well, I'm already starving with hunger, and I think we
may as well open that kit of provisions, and have our picnic right here,
while Roger is mending the belt."
"Elise," said her father jestingly, "you sometimes show signs of almost
human intelligence! Your plan is a positive inspiration, for I confess
that I myself feel the gnawings of hunger. Let us eat the hard-boiled
eggs and ham sandwiches that we have with us, and then if we like, we can
stop at Hartford this afternoon for a more satisfying lunch, as I begin
to think we will not reach Pine Branches until sometime later than their
usual dinner hour."
They all agreed to this plan, and Roger, with his peculiar sensitiveness
toward being discovered with his car at a disadvantage, said seriously:
"I see a racing machine coming, and when it passes us I hope you people
will act as if we had stopped here only to lunch, and not because this
ridiculous belt chose to break itself just now."
This trait of Roger's amused Patty very much, but she was quite ready to
humour her friend, and agreed to do her part.
She looked where Roger had indicated, and though she could see what
looked like a black speck on a distant road, she wondered how Roger could
know it was a racing machine that was approaching. However, she realised
that there were many details of motoring of which she had as yet no idea,
and she turned her attention to helping the others spread out the
luncheon. The beautifully furnished basket was a delight to Patty. She
was amazed to see how cleverly a large amount of paraphernalia could be
stowed in a small amount of space. The kit was arranged for six persons,
and contained half-dozens of knives, forks, spoons, and even egg-spoons;
also plates, cups, napkins, and everything with which to serve a
comfortable meal. There were sandwich-boxes, salad-boxes, butter-jars,
tea and coffee cans, salt, pepper, and all necessary condiments. Then
there was the alcohol stove, with its water-kettle and chafing dish. At
the sight of all these things, which seemed to come out of the kit as out
of a magician's hat, Patty's eyes danced.
"Let me cook," she begged, and Mrs. Farrington and Elise were only too
glad to be relieved of this duty.
There wasn't much cooking to do, as sandwiches, cold meats, salad, and
sweets were lavishly provided, but Patty made tea, and then boiled a few
eggs just for the fun of doing it.
Preparations for the picnic were scarcely under way when the racing-car
that Roger had seen in the distance came near them. There was a whirring
sound as it approached, and Patty glanced up from her alcohol stove to
see that it was occupied by only one man. He was slowing speed, and
evidently intended to stop. Long before he had reached them, Roger had
hidden his tools, and though his work on the broken belt was not
completed, he busied himself with the luncheon preparations, as if that
was his sole thought.
The racing-car stopped and the man who was driving it got out.
At sight of him Patty with difficulty restrained her laughter, for though
their own garb was queer, it was rational compared to the appearance of
this newcomer.
A racing suit is, with perhaps the exception of a diver's costume, the
most absurd-looking dress a man can get into. The stranger's suit was of
black rubber, tightly strapped at the wrists and ankles, but it was his
head-gear which gave the man his weird and uncanny effect. It was a
combination of mask, goggles, hood, earflaps, and neckshield which was so
arranged with hinges that the noseguard and mouthpiece worked
independently of each other.
At any rate, it seemed to Patty the funniest show she had ever seen, and
she couldn't help laughing. The man didn't seem to mind, however, and
after he had bowed silently for a moment or two with great enjoyment of
their mystification, he pulled off his astonishing head-gear and
disclosed his features.
"Dick Phelps!" exclaimed Mr. Farrington, "why, how are you, old man? I'm
right down glad to see you!"
Mr. Phelps was a friend of the Farrington family, and quite naturally
they invited him to lunch with them.
"Indeed I will," said the visitor, "for I started at daybreak, and I've
had nothing to eat since. I can't tarry long though, as I must make New
York City to-night."
Mr. Phelps was a good-looking young man of about thirty years, and so
pleased was he with Patty's efforts in the cooking line, that he ate all
the eggs she had boiled, and drank nearly all the tea, besides making
serious inroads on the viands they had brought with them.
"It doesn't matter if I do eat up all your food," said the young man,
pleasantly, "for you can stop anywhere and get more, but I mustn't stop
again until I reach the city, and I probably won't have a chance to eat
then, as I must push on to Long Island."
The Farringtons were quite willing to refresh the stranger within their
gates, and they all enjoyed the merry little picnic.
"Where are you bound?" asked Mr. Phelps as he prepared to continue his
way.
"To Pine Branches first," said Mrs. Farrington, "the country house of a
friend. It's near Springfield, and from there we shall make short trips,
and later on, continue our way in some other direction,--which way we
haven't yet decided."
"Good enough," said Mr. Phelps, "then I'll probably see you again. I am
often a guest at Pine Branches myself, and shall hope to run across you."
As every motorist is necessarily interested in his friend's car, Mr.
Phelps naturally turned to inspect the Farrington machine before getting
into his own.
And so, to Roger's chagrin, he was obliged to admit that he was even then
under the necessity of mending a broken belt.
But to Roger's relief, Mr. Phelps took almost no notice of it, merely
saying that a detail defect was liable to happen to anybody. He looked
over the vital parts of the motor, and complimented Roger on its fine
condition. This pleased the boy greatly, and resuming his work after Mr.
Phelps' departure, he patched up the belt, while the others repacked the
kit, and soon they started off again.
Swiftly and smoothly they ran along over the beautiful roads,
occasionally meeting other touring-parties apparently as happy as they
were themselves. Sometimes they exchanged merry greetings as they passed,
for all motorists belong to one great, though unorganised, fraternity.
"I've already discovered that trifling accidents are a part of the
performance, and I've also discovered that they're easily remedied and
soon over, and that when they are over they are quickly forgotten and it
seems impossible that they should ever occur again."
"You've sized it up pretty fairly, Patty," said Roger, "and though I
never before thought it out for myself, I agree with you that that is the
true way to look at it."
On they went, leaving the miles behind them, and as Roger was anxious to
make up for lost time he went at a slightly higher speed than he would
have otherwise done. He slowed down, however, when they passed horses or
when they went through towns or villages.
Patty was greatly interested in the many small villages through which
they rode, as nearly every one showed quaint or humorous scenes. Dogs
would come out and bark at them, children would scream after them, and
even the grown-up citizens of the hamlets would stare at them as if they
had never seen a motor-car before, though Patty reasoned that surely many
of them must have travelled that same road.
"When you meet another village, Roger," she said, "do go through it more
slowly, for I like to see the funny people."
"Very well," said Roger, "you may stop and get a drink at the town pump,
if you like."
"No, thank you," said Patty, "I don't want to get out, but I would like
to stop a minute or two in one of them."
Roger would willingly have granted Patty's wish, but he was deprived of
this privilege by the car itself. Just as they neared a small settlement
known as Huntley's Corners, another ominous sound from the machine gave
warning.
"That belt again!" exclaimed Roger. "Patty, the probabilities are that
you'll have all the time you want to study up this village, and even
learn the life history of the oldest inhabitant."
"What an annoying belt it is," said Mrs. Farrington in her pleasant way.
"Don't you think, Roger dear, that you had better get a new belt and be
done with it?"
"That's just what I do think, Mother, but somehow I can't persuade myself
that they keep them for sale at this corner grocery."
The car had reached the only store in the settlement, and stopped almost
in front of it.
Patty was beginning to learn the different kinds of stops that a
motor-car can make, and she felt pretty sure that this was not a
momentary pause, but a stop that threatened a considerable delay.
She said as much to Roger, and he replied, "Patty, you're an apt pupil.
The Fact has paused here not for a day, but for all time, unless
something pretty marvellous can be done in the way of belt mending!"
Patty began to think that accidents were of somewhat frequent occurrence,
but Elise said, cheerfully, "This seems to be an off day. Why, sometimes
we run sweetly for a week, without a word from the belt. Don't we,
Roger?"
"Yes, indeed," said Roger, "but Patty may as well get used to the seamy
side of motoring, and learn to like it."
"I do like it," declared Patty, "and if we are going to take up our abode
here for the present, I'm going out to explore the town."
She jumped lightly from the car, and, accompanied by Elise, strolled down
the main, and, indeed, the only street of the village.