The Corner House Girls on a Tour

“Don’t you mean to stop?” gasped Ruth.

“Not here, I tell you,” snapped the exasperated youth. “You want us to get stalled here out of sight of a house, even?”

“We won’t be in sight of many houses when we get to the top of the hill, if I remember rightly,” murmured Agnes.

Neale made no further reply. The thing continued to thump and the engine to roar. But they reached the top of the hill and continued staggering along toward the farm buildings, which looked as deserted as they had on the previous occasion when the party had stopped here.

“How near are we to a repair garage?” asked Mrs. Heard.

“About twenty miles,” Agnes told her. “Sweet prospect, isn’t it?”

“But what is the matter?” repeated Ruth.

“If you ask me,” said Agnes, with conviction, “I think the old thing has the epizootic.”

“Oh, my!” gasped Dot. “That’s what the stableman’s horse had – and it died. Could our automobile have the same sickness?”

“I don’t know; but it acts as if it were going to die,” growled Neale.

“Shall – shall we get out and walk?” asked Tess. “Maybe it can’t carry so many now.”

“Hear the kid!” scoffed Sammy. “’Tain’t nothing but an old mess of iron-work. It can’t get sick.”

There certainly was something, however, seriously the matter with the Corner House girls’ automobile. Just as they came abreast of the drive that led up to the big hay barn the engine coughed two or three times, and then stopped dead.

“All out!” ejaculated Neale, in disgust. “This looks like the end of our day’s journey.”

“And not a house in sight,” murmured Mrs. Heard.

CHAPTER XXII – SAMMY INVESTIGATES

It was a lovely afternoon, and there were still two or three hours before sunset. The intention had been merely to stop at the abandoned Higgins farm to satisfy Agnes’ desire to make another search of the premises for the lost motor car.

“I believe you wanted to look down the well to see if it was there,” Neale remarked, grumpily. “Well! you’ve time enough to do it.”

“Oh, Neale! don’t be nasty,” said his girl chum. “I’m sorry if the old car is going to make you trouble – ”

“Us trouble, I should say,” Ruth said, rather sharply. “Do you realize that we are an unconscionable long way from civilization?”

“Well, don’t let us become savage, if the wilderness is,” said Mrs. Heard, recovering her own good temper. “Of course, Neale, you don’t know just what the matter is with the machine?”

“Not yet; but I’m going to find out,” he returned, hauling his overalls and jumper out of the tool-box.

“And us,” cried Dot. “Let’s look around for the place where we’re going to camp. Why! we’ll be just like the Gypsies again.”

“My goodness!” groaned Mrs. Heard. “That child is uncanny. Does she know that we are going to be marooned here all night? And not a soul in sight!”

“We got something to eat,” said Sammy, who had investigated. “I’ll get the fire ready to light. Neale won’t let me have matches.”

“I’m sure we could clean out one of those small houses, and make it nice and comfortable for us to live in,” said Tess, falling in with the idea with enthusiasm.

“Me for the hay!” cried Agnes, running up to the barn door. “We’ll sleep in the hay!”

“Remember the rats!” hissed Neale, as he crept under the car with a hammer and a collection of wrenches.

“Mean thing!” cried Agnes. “I won’t believe there are such things, so now!”

When she opened the small barn door, however, she had a fright right at the start. Something whisked out at her feet, and Agnes leaped aside with a scream.

“Oh! it’s a pussy-cat,” cried Dot delightedly. “Then somebody does live here!”

It was a beautiful blue Maltese cat, and although she was a little wild at first, she must have been used to children when the farmer lived here, for Dot and Tess soon coaxed her to come to be petted.

“Anyway,” Agnes said, “I’m not going to worry about rats with a fine puss like her around. She can handle the rats.”

“Sure. She eats ’em alive,” called Neale from beneath the car.

Agnes went inside and struggled with the bar of the big barn door. Sammy finally went to her assistance and they swung the doors open so that the sunlight might flood the interior. Nothing seemed to be changed since Neale had made his search more than two weeks before.

Mrs. Heard and Ruth were wandering about the premises, looking into the other outbuildings. The stable was empty, of course. There was no stock on the place. But on the other side of the ruins of the burned dwelling they made quite an important discovery.

There was a fenced-in garden patch. It was weed-grown for the most part; but there were berry bushes loaded with dew-berries and raspberries, both black and red; besides ripening gooseberries and currants. Here was a feast for the children, and Ruth was about to call them when Mrs. Heard said:

“Wait. If we should have to remain to-night, this fruit will help out for supper and breakfast. We have plenty of sugar and canned evaporated milk.”

“Goodness me, Mrs. Heard! Don’t talk so perfectly recklessly!” Ruth exclaimed. “It can’t be that we shall have to remain here. Why, we can’t!”

“What are you going to do – walk to the next town?” asked Agnes, who came to them in time to overhear this statement of her sister’s.

“Where is the next town?” asked Mrs. Heard quickly.

“Just sixteen miles away by the map – and fourteen at least as the crow flies,” Agnes said promptly.

“And we’re not crows,” murmured Ruth.

“We can never walk fourteen miles – or more,” Mrs. Heard said, with conviction. “Where is the nearest house?”

“Goodness only knows. There is no other farm on this road – we know that. And I don’t remember seeing any very near to where we turned into it at either end, do you?” said Agnes.

“No, I don’t,” Ruth admitted, shaking her head. “We are in a fix if Neale can’t repair the car himself – and quickly.”

“Don’t say anything to him,” begged Agnes. “He’s as cross as a bear with a sore head.”

Meanwhile Mrs. Heard and the two girls were approaching the automobile.

“Ouch!” grunted Neale from under the car, and Agnes giggled.

“Now he’s bumped his poor head again, and it’s sorer than ever.”