CHAPTER XI
DICK PHELPS
The travellers did not rise early the next morning, and ten o'clock foundthem still seated at the breakfast table.
"I do hate to hurry," said Mrs. Farrington, comfortably sipping hercoffee. "So many people think that an automobile tour means getting upearly, and hustling off at daybreak."
"I'm glad those are your sentiments," said Patty, "for I quite agree withyou. I've done enough hustling the last month or two, and I'm delightedto take things more slowly for a change."
"I think," said Mr. Farrington, "that as it is such a pleasant day, itwould be a good plan to take some luncheon with us and picnic by theroadside. We could then get to the Warners'in time for dinner, thoughperhaps 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 littlecontraption you could possibly think of."
"I know it," said Patty. "I peeped inside yesterday, and the array offorks and spoons and plates and bottles was perfectly fascinating."
"Very well," said Mrs. Farrington to her husband, "ask them to fill thekit properly, and I think myself we will enjoy a little picnic."
So Mr. Farrington went to see about the provisions, and Roger to get thecar ready, while the ladies sauntered about the piazza.
The route of their journey lay along the shore of Long Island Sound, andthe 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 sparklingSound, dotted with white steamers and various sorts of fishing-craft. Forher part she would have been glad to stay longer at this hotel, but theWarners, whom they were going to visit, were expecting them to dinner thatevening. These people, Patty knew, lived in a beautiful country placecalled "Pine Branches," which was near Springfield in Massachusetts. Pattydid not know the Warners, but Elise had assured her that they weredelightful people and were prepared to give her a warm welcome.
When the car came to the door the ladies were all ready to continue thejourney. They had again donned their queer-looking motor-clothes, andthough Patty was beginning to get used to their appearance, they stillseemed to her like a trio of brownies or other queer beings as they tooktheir seats in the car.
Roger climbed to his place, touched a lever by his side, and swung thecar 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 soperfect, 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 theallowed limit, but Roger assured her to the contrary.
For many miles their course lay along a fine road which followed theshore of the Sound. This delighted Patty, as she was still able to gazeout over the blue water, and at the same time enjoy the wonderful motionof the car.
But soon their course changed and they turned inland, on the road toHartford. Patty was surprised at Roger's knowledge of the way, but theyoung man was well provided with road maps and guidebooks, of which hehad made careful study.
"How beautifully the car goes," said Patty. "It doesn't make the leastfuss, even on the upgrades."
"You must learn the vocabulary, Patty," said Roger. "When a machine goessmoothly as The Fact is doing now, the proper expression is that it runssweetly."
"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 waythis car goes it is just too sweet for anything!"
They all laughed at this, but their gaiety was short-lived, for just thenthere was a peculiar crunching sound that seemed to mean disaster,judging from the expressions of dismay on the faces of the Farringtonfamily.
"What is it?" asked Patty, forgetting that she had been told never to askquestions on such occasions.
"Patty," said Roger, making a comical face at her, "my countenance nowpresents an expression typical of disgust, irritation, and impatience. Inow wave my right hand thus, which is a Delsarte gesture expressingexasperation 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 hasbroken and the mending thereof will consume a portion of time, the lengthof which may be estimated only after it has elapsed."
Patty laughed heartily at this harangue, but gathered from Roger'snonsense the interesting fact that an accident had occurred, and that adelay was inevitable. Nobody seemed especially surprised. Indeed, theytook it quite as a matter of course, and Mrs. Farrington opened a newmagazine which she had brought with her, and calmly settled herself toread.
But Elise said, "Well, I'm already starving with hunger, and I think wemay 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 almosthuman intelligence! Your plan is a positive inspiration, for I confessthat I myself feel the gnawings of hunger. Let us eat the hard-boiledeggs and ham sandwiches that we have with us, and then if we like, we canstop at Hartford this afternoon for a more satisfying lunch, as I beginto think we will not reach Pine Branches until sometime later than theirusual dinner hour."
They all agreed to this plan, and Roger, with his peculiar sensitivenesstoward being discovered with his car at a disadvantage, said seriously:"I see a racing machine coming, and when it passes us I hope you peoplewill act as if we had stopped here only to lunch, and not because thisridiculous belt chose to break itself just now."
This trait of Roger's amused Patty very much, but she was quite ready tohumour her friend, and agreed to do her part.
She looked where Roger had indicated, and though she could see whatlooked like a black speck on a distant road, she wondered how Roger couldknow it was a racing machine that was approaching. However, she realisedthat 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 theluncheon. The beautifully furnished basket was a delight to Patty. Shewas amazed to see how cleverly a large amount of paraphernalia could bestowed 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 acomfortable meal. There were sandwich-boxes, salad-boxes, butter-jars,tea and coffee cans, salt, pepper, and all necessary condiments. Thenthere was the alcohol stove, with its water-kettle and chafing dish. Atthe sight of all these things, which seemed to come out of the kit as outof a magician's hat, Patty's eyes danced.
"Let me cook," she begged, and Mrs. Farrington and Elise were only tooglad to be relieved of this duty.
There wasn't much cooking to do, as sandwiches, cold meats, salad, andsweets were lavishly provided, but Patty made tea, and then boiled a feweggs just for the fun of doing it.
Preparations for the picnic were scarcely under way when the racing-carthat Roger had seen in the distance came near them. There was a whirringsound as it approached, and Patty glanced up from her alcohol stove tosee that it was occupied by only one man. He was slowing speed, andevidently intended to stop. Long before he had reached them, Roger hadhidden his tools, and though his work on the broken belt was notcompleted, he busied himself with the luncheon preparations, as if thatwas 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 thoughtheir own garb was queer, it was rational compared to the appearance ofthis newcomer.
A racing suit is, with perhaps the exception of a diver's costume, themost absurd-looking dress a man can get into. The stranger's suit was ofblack rubber, tightly strapped at the wrists a
nd ankles, but it was hishead-gear which gave the man his weird and uncanny effect. It was acombination of mask, goggles, hood, earflaps, and neckshield which was soarranged with hinges that the noseguard and mouthpiece workedindependently of each other.
At any rate, it seemed to Patty the funniest show she had ever seen, andshe couldn't help laughing. The man didn't seem to mind, however, andafter he had bowed silently for a moment or two with great enjoyment oftheir mystification, he pulled off his astonishing head-gear anddisclosed his features.
"Dick Phelps!" exclaimed Mr. Farrington, "why, how are you, old man? I'mright down glad to see you!"
Mr. Phelps was a friend of the Farrington family, and quite naturallythey invited him to lunch with them.
"Indeed I will," said the visitor, "for I started at daybreak, and I'vehad nothing to eat since. I can't tarry long though, as I must make NewYork City to-night."
Mr. Phelps was a good-looking young man of about thirty years, and sopleased was he with Patty's efforts in the cooking line, that he ate allthe eggs she had boiled, and drank nearly all the tea, besides makingserious 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 stopagain until I reach the city, and I probably won't have a chance to eatthen, as I must push on to Long Island."
The Farringtons were quite willing to refresh the stranger within theirgates, and they all enjoyed the merry little picnic.
"Where are you bound?" asked Mr. Phelps as he prepared to continue hisway.
"To Pine Branches first," said Mrs. Farrington, "the country house of afriend. It's near Springfield, and from there we shall make short trips,and later on, continue our way in some other direction,--which way wehaven't yet decided."
"Good enough," said Mr. Phelps, "then I'll probably see you again. I amoften 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 gettinginto his own.
And so, to Roger's chagrin, he was obliged to admit that he was even thenunder the necessity of mending a broken belt.
But to Roger's relief, Mr. Phelps took almost no notice of it, merelysaying that a detail defect was liable to happen to anybody. He lookedover the vital parts of the motor, and complimented Roger on its finecondition. This pleased the boy greatly, and resuming his work after Mr.Phelps' departure, he patched up the belt, while the others repacked thekit, 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 theywere 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 theperformance, and I've also discovered that they're easily remedied andsoon over, and that when they are over they are quickly forgotten and itseems impossible that they should ever occur again."
"You've sized it up pretty fairly, Patty," said Roger, "and though Inever before thought it out for myself, I agree with you that that is thetrue way to look at it."
On they went, leaving the miles behind them, and as Roger was anxious tomake up for lost time he went at a slightly higher speed than he wouldhave otherwise done. He slowed down, however, when they passed horses orwhen they went through towns or villages.
Patty was greatly interested in the many small villages through whichthey rode, as nearly every one showed quaint or humorous scenes. Dogswould come out and bark at them, children would scream after them, andeven the grown-up citizens of the hamlets would stare at them as if theyhad never seen a motor-car before, though Patty reasoned that surely manyof them must have travelled that same road.
"When you meet another village, Roger," she said, "do go through it moreslowly, 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 liketo stop a minute or two in one of them."
Roger would willingly have granted Patty's wish, but he was deprived ofthis privilege by the car itself. Just as they neared a small settlementknown as Huntley's Corners, another ominous sound from the machine gavewarning.
"That belt again!" exclaimed Roger. "Patty, the probabilities are thatyou'll have all the time you want to study up this village, and evenlearn 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 bedone with it?"
"That's just what I do think, Mother, but somehow I can't persuade myselfthat they keep them for sale at this corner grocery."
The car had reached the only store in the settlement, and stopped almostin front of it.
Patty was beginning to learn the different kinds of stops that amotor-car can make, and she felt pretty sure that this was not amomentary 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, unlesssomething 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, sometimeswe 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 seamyside of motoring, and learn to like it."
"I do like it," declared Patty, "and if we are going to take up our abodehere for the present, I'm going out to explore the town."
She jumped lightly from the car, and, accompanied by Elise, strolled downthe main, and, indeed, the only street of the village.
Patty's Summer Days Page 11
