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Dot held the really dreadful looking doll away from her and gazed with loving eyes upon the wreck of her former pink and white beauty.
She is just as as dear to me as ever she was, she sighed. But I spose her complexion is muddy and her nose is flattened a little and her lips arent red any more-and her eyes are washed out. But but are you sure they wont hurt her?
Well have to find a hospital where they agree not to hurt, said Neale seriously.
Now youve got yourself in a mess, Neale O Neil, whispered Agnes. Shell never let you rest.
But the boy only grinned at her. Tess came back. Ruth brought the hats of Agnes and herself and their outer wraps. Everything that they could possibly need for the days outing was gathered together and taken out to the big, shiny, seven-passenger touring car that stood gloriously in the morning sunshine before the Willow Street door of the old Corner House.
Tom Jonah, the old Newfoundland dog, and the guardian of the premises, evidently desired to accompany the merry party; but Ruth vetoed that, although he might have ridden in the front seat with Neale.
And Im going to ride there myself, declared Agnes, firmly. Ive got to learn to run this car right away. If Neale could learn, and get a license, I can. By the way, Neale, where is your license?
Oh, Ive got it with me, returned the boy. D you want me to have it pasted on the back of my coat?
Tom Jonah must stay at home and the kittens, too, said Tess, looking at the troop of cats and kittens lingering about the side porch, waiting for their morning meal.
And Billy Bumps, added Dot, referring to the solemn old goat grazing on the drying green.
Uncle Rufus, the black factotum of the Corner House, came up from the garden, grinning widely at them.
Don yo chillun run down nothin nor run up nothin wile yo is gone. I dunno bout dat contraption. Ah hopes yo git back widout moren a dozen laigs broke.
Goodness, Uncle Rufus! cried Agnes. What do you think we are centipedes?
Dunno nottin bout dem er, declared the old colored man, chuckling. Dont hab center-pigs in Virginny, whar I done come from. Dey uses razorbacks fo de mos part in makin pok.
The car started amid a gale of laughter at this. Mrs. MacCall waved her cap from an open second story window. Some of the neighbors took a deep interest in their departure, too. It was certainly a fact that the Corner House girls had suddenly become of much importance since it was known that they had a car.
Ruth and the others looked up at Aunt Sarah Maltbys windows at the front of the house as the car
jounced delightfully across the tracks on Main Street. But the old lady kept her curtains drawn. She would not even look out at them.
They sped along so easily, the strong springs and shock-absorbers taking the jar at the crossings, that even Ruth sighed ecstatically. Agnes murmured:
This is life. Oh, Neale! its the most delightful way to travel.
Is it better than riding horses in a circus, Neale? demanded Tess, from the tonneau.
Neale laughed. He had been circus born and bred, and the little girls still believed that such a life must be one round of pleasure and excitement. They never could understand why Neale had run away from Twomley & Sorbers Herculean Circus and Menagerie.
Suddenly Agnes, the volatile, thought of another thing. Oh, me! Oh, my! she cried. What ever should we do?
Goodness! whats the matter with you now? demanded her older sister.
Suppose our auto should be stolen like Mr. Collingers!
Dont say that, Aggie! wailed Tess.
They couldnt steal our auto, declared Dot, with emphasis.
Why not? asked Neale, curiously.
Cause Tom Jonah wouldnt let em, said the smallest girl.
Then we should have brought Tom Jonah with us, Agnes said. Well have to let him watch the car all the time.
Mr. Collingers car was taken right away from the front of the County Court House. Those thieves were bold, said Ruth. I heard Mr. Howbridge say that there was something behind that affair. He doubts if the car was stolen by any common thieves.
Common or uncommon, cried Agnes, we dont want ours stolen!
Better set a watch at the garage door at night, chuckled Neale.
They were out in the country now and had entered a smooth, but woodsy, road that passed through a rather thick forest. The road was very narrow in places and there were only a few houses along the track for some miles.
Suddenly they sighted just ahead a basket phaeton and a brown, fat pony hitched to it. Neale slowed down quickly, for the turnout was standing still. The driver was a middle-aged woman with a good many fussy looking ribbons in her bonnet and otherwise dressed quite gaily. The fat brown pony was standing still, flicking flies with his tail and wagging his ears comfortably. He was in the very middle of the road and by no possibility could the car be steered around the turnout.
The woman looked around at the car and its passengers and her face displayed a most exasperated expression.
I dont know what youll do! she cried, in a rather shrill voice. I cant make him budge. Hes been standing here this way for fifteen minutes, and sometimes he balks for hours!