The Motor Girls on a Tour

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The Motor Girls on a Tour Page 6

by Margaret Penrose


  CHAPTER VI

  THE HOLD-UP

  Dashing over the country roads, the motor girls sent their machinesahead at fast speed, unwilling to stop to light up, and anxious to makethe town before the twilight faded into nightfall.

  Suddenly Cora, who was in the lead, grabbed the emergency brake andquickly shut off the power.

  "What's that?" she asked. "Something straight ahead. Don't you seeit, Hazel?"

  Hazel stood up and peered into the gathering darkness.

  "Yes; it looks like an auto. Perhaps some one got disabled, and had toleave the machine," she replied.

  "Perhaps," returned Cora, going along carefully.

  "It is an auto," declared Hazel presently, as they were almost upon theobject in the roadway.

  "The auto stage!" exclaimed Cora. "Don't be frightened, Hazel," shehurried to say. "Paul is not in it. He must have gone on with themail."

  Hazel sank down in the cushions and covered her eyes. Somehow shecould not bear to look at the deserted auto stage.

  The other girls were coming along cautiously--they saw that somethingwas the matter.

  The standing machine was directly in the road; it instantly struck Corathat this was strange. Who could have been so careless as to leave anunlighted auto in the roadway, and night coming on?

  She turned her wheel to guide the Whirlwind to one side, and thenstopped. Bess was next, and she shut off the power from the Flyaway.

  "What is it?" asked Bess anxiously. Belle did not venture to leave themachine, but Hazel had bounded out of the Whirlwind almost before Corahad time to stop it.

  "Oh," exclaimed Hazel, "there are Paul's gloves. Where can he be?"

  "Perhaps playing a trick on us," suggested Cora, although she hadlittle faith in the possibility. "I am sure he would not go far offand leave this expensive machine here."

  By this time all the other girls had reached the spot, and were nowdeliberating upon the abandoned auto. Suddenly a call--shrill anddistinct--startled them.

  "That's Paul!" shrieked Hazel, turning instantly and dashing off in thedirection from which the voice had come. Cora, Bess, Maud and Ceciliafollowed her. Over the wet fields, through briars and underbrush thegirls ran, while the call was repeated; this time there being nopossibility of mistake--it was Paul shouting.

  Breathless, the girls hurried on. With a sister's instinct Hazel neverstumbled, but seemed to get over every obstacle like some wood spritecalled to duty.

  "Oh, I'm all right, girls! Take your time!" came the voice in thewoods.

  "All right!" repeated Hazel in uncertain tones.

  "Oh, look!" shrieked Cecilia. "Didn't I tell you it was a joke? Look!"

  What a sight! There, sitting on something like a stool, with a bigcotton umbrella opened over his head, his eyes blinded with somethingdark, and his hands and feet made secure, was Paul Hastings, thechauffeur of the auto stage.

  "Whatever does this means?" asked Cora, hurrying to Hazel, who was nowmadly snatching the black silk handkerchief from her brother's eyes.

  "A prisoner of war," replied Paul rather unsteadily. "Glad you came,girls--there, sis, in my back pocket, you will find a knife. Just cutthose carpet rags off my feet and hands."

  Cecilia found the pocket knife, and, more quickly than any boy mighthave done it, she severed the bonds, and Paul stretched out--free.

  "Well," he exclaimed, "this is about the limit!"

  "Did the boys do it?" asked Cora.

  "Boys! Not a bit of it," replied Paul. "It was a regular hold-up.And the mail! I must get that, if they have left it on the road. Didyou see the car? Is it all right?"

  "It appeared to be," said Cora. "It was the car that brought us to astandstill. It's in the middle of the road."

  Paul shook himself as if expecting to find some damage to limb ormuscle. Then he turned toward the open path.

  "Tell us about it," demanded Cecilia. "Wasn't it a joke?"

  "Joke!" he reiterated. "Well, I should say not! Would you call it ajoke to have two masked men jump in front of a running car, and flashsomething shiny? Then to have them climb in, cover my eyes and tell meI would be all right, and not to worry!"

  "Oh," sighed Hazel, "I felt something would happen to you, Paul, dear.You must give up this position."

  "Well, we will see about that," he replied. "Perhaps I won't haveanything to say about it--if the mailpouch is gone."

  "Then they brought you out here?" asked Cecilia, determined to hear allthe story.

  "Carried me like a baby," replied Paul, "and in sheer humaneconsideration they put me near the road, so that my call might beheard."

  "And the umbrella?" asked Cora.

  "Oh, they went to a barn for that. It was raining, and my politefriends did not want me to take cold."

  His tone was bitterly cutting; taking cold would evidently have been ofsmall account to him.

  "And they sat you upon that log?" put in Maud.

  "Like any ordinary bump," he rejoined. "I never knew the misery of abump on a log before."

  "And, you are not hurt?" Hazel pressed close to his side and looked uplovingly at the tall boy.

  "Not in the least--that is, physically. But I am seriously hurtmentally."

  Cora could not but recognize how handsome Paul was. The excitementseemed to fire his whole being, and throw some subtle humanphosphorus--a light from his burning brain certainly brightened in hiseyes and even in his cheeks.

  "Come along, girls," he said hurriedly. "Never mind the paraphernalia.Some lonely goat might like the rags. Let's get out on the road."

  His anxiety was of course for the mail. That leather bag meant more tohim than the mere transference of Uncle Sam's freight--it meant hishonor--his position.

  Over the rough fields the girls followed him. Hazel clung to his handlike a little sister indeed, while the others were content to keep asclose as the uncertain footing would allow.

  Presently they reached the road, then the stage coach. The othergirls, who had not run to Paul's rescue, were standing aroundbreathless.

  Paul jumped into the car--thrust his hand into the box under the floor,where he always put the government pouch.

  He brought up the mailbag.

  CHAPTER VII

  A CHANCE MEETING

  Paul lost no time in reaching Cartown with the belated mail, and so wasobliged to leave the girls an the road with scant ceremony, hardlypausing to discuss why he had been bound when no apparent robbery hadbeen perpetrated.

  Hazel appeared so agitated that Cora insisted upon her returning to theKimball home to dinner, and also had succeeded in getting a promisefrom Paul that he would come there as early in the evening as it wouldbe possible for him to do so.

  Then, when the mail car was lost sight of, and the motor girls startedagain on their homeward way, Clip insisted upon leading.

  "I know the variety of bandit," she declared, "and I want to meet himpersonally. He is sure to fall dead in love with me on the spot. And,oh, girls! Think of it! Me and the bandit!"

  Even Hazel laughed. The suggestion called up a picture of thedisgraceful Clip in robber uniform, with the proverbial redhandkerchief on her head, and all the rest of the disreputableaccessories. Clip would "look the part."

  But the Thayer machine was not noted for its beauty or service--it hadthe reputation of bolting always at the "psychological moment," andwhen Clip dashed forward to meet her fate, the fate of the Turtle (asher car was called) intercepted her.

  With a jerk the Turtle tossed up its head, bounced Clip off her seat,and then stopped.

  "Oh!" exclaimed the girl. "Isn't this the utmost! And I about to meetmy bandit! Now I suppose I will have to leave Turtle here to affordthe foe a means of escape. I say, girls, isn't that the utmost?"

  She jumped out of the car and, with a superficial glance at thefractious machine, waited for Cora's car.

  "Come on, Ray," she said to her companion. "No use sitting there. Thatcar will never, mo
ve unless it is dragged. I know her. No usemonkeying with tools. When she stops, she stops, and we may as wellmake up our minds to it."

  "But," argued Ray, "you have not even attempted to find out what is thematter. Perhaps we could fix it up--"

  "No use attempting. I would find the whole thing the matter. Justfeel," she suggested, putting her ungloved hand on the radiator. "Youcould make beef stew on any of her lids. Oh, I know this kind of hotbox! I've boiled the water, and the cylinders are stuck."

  By this time the other girls had come along. Cora insisted uponlooking over the disabled machine, and, while she did so, Clipdeliberately made herself comfortable in the Whirlwind.

  "Get in with Daisy," she called to Ray. "This will do me."

  "Can't we tow it?" asked Cora. "Why should you leave your machine outhere? And it is almost dark!"

  "That's the reason," replied Clip. "It is almost dark, and I prefer toleave the machine here as a little token of my love to the bandit.Suppose I want to be 'run in' for traveling without a glimmer'?"

  Cora saw that argument was useless. Reluctantly she turned from theTurtle. Ray climbed in with Daisy and Maud. Bess and Belle were readyto start "from the seat," without cranking up. Cora gave the Whirlwinda few turns.

  "I hope we get home without any further trouble," came from the foldsof Ray's blue veil. "I think we have had enough for one day."

  "Enough!" echoed Clip. "Why, I could stand ten times that much! I lovetrouble--in the abstract."

  "Suppose you call this the abstract," almost sneered Daisy, whoevidently did not relish being crowded.

  "Certainly I do," declared Clip. "Just gaze on the abstracted Turtle!"

  "Who's that?" whispered Hazel nervously. A step could be heard in theroadway.

  "My bandit!" breathed Clip. "Oh, my darling, desperate bandit!"

  "Hush!" cautioned Cora, for she felt the possibility of Paul's captorsbeing about still. Then two figures appeared from the sharp turn inthe road. Cora wanted to start, but hesitated. The figures camecloser. They were those of two well-dressed men; that was easilydiscernable.

  Clip put her hand over her heart.

  "Oh-h=h!" she groaned audibly. "Isn't he handsome!"

  Hazel clutched at her sleeve. "Do stop!" she begged. "They may be--"

  "They are!" answered Clip, and, as the men halted beside the Turtle,she deliberately jumped out and approached them.

  The other girls were spellbound. Cora, too, left her place--she knewCecilia's recklessness and felt it her duty to stand by her.

  The two strange men looked first at the girls and then at the car.

  "Had an accident?" asked the taller of the two politely.

  "Oh, no, it's chronic," answered Clip flippantly, much to Cora's dismay.

  The men were evidently gentlemen. They were well dressed, and had themannerisms of culture.

  "Perhaps I can help you," suggested one, taking from his pocket awrench. "I always carry tools--meet so many 'chronics,'" and helaughed lightly.

  "Come on," called Hazel from the Whirlwind. "You know, Paul will bewaiting, Cora."

  At this the men both started. He with the wrench ceased his attempt toopen the motor hood. The other looked toward Hazel.

  "Oh, I see," he said with affected ease. "Your friend promised to meetyou, and you are late."

  "My brother," said Hazel curtly.

  "Paul Hastings," said Cora quickly, before she knew why.

  "Oh!" almost whistled the taller man. "I see; of the WhitehallCompany?"

  "Do you know him?" demanded Cora rather sharply.

  "Slight-ly," drawled the stout man, he with the wrench.

  "Well, we had best not detain you, young ladies," said the other, "asyou have so important an engagement," and with that they both turnedoff.

  "What do you think of that?" exclaimed Cora.

  "The utmost!" replied Clip, in her favorite way of expressing "thelimit."

  "They knew Paul!" gasped Hazel.

  "Seemed to," answered Cora evasively. She had her opinions and doubtsas to who these gentlemen might be.

  "Just my luck," murmured Clip. "I rather liked the tall fellow, but Inoticed that the other carried a gold filigree fountain pen, had aperfectly dear watch charm, and he talked like a lawyer."

  "Oh, my!" exclaimed Cora. "You did size him up. I only noticed thathe was a joint short on his right-hand thumb."

  "That, my dear, is termed a professional thumb-mark. We will know himif we meet him in the dark," said Clip.

  Cora laughed. She felt, however, more serious than she cared to havethe others know. "Well, let's be off this time," she said. "We willhardly make town before dark now."

 

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