The Motor Girls at Lookout Beach: or, In Quest of the Runaways

“There comes Mrs. Blazes!” put in Narrow. “She couldn’t miss the show.”

The woman who came down the path sent on before her the rather overpowering odor of badly mixed perfumes.

“Look at her sparklers,” whispered a boy to Cora, “that’s why we call her ‘Blazes.’”

A black lace scarf was over the woman’s head and now the “sparklers,” or diamonds that she wore, in evident flashy taste, could be seen at her throat, and on her fingers. Bess smiled to Belle, and Cora turned to the boys.

“We must finish up this business,” she said. “It is getting late, and we have to go to Chelton.”

“Go ahead!” called the urchins.

“Fork out Andy’s sticks,” shouted some others.

“What is the crate worth?” asked Cora.

“It was worth three dollars and seventy-five cents,” said the woman, “before that scamp deliberately set in it.”

Cora did not intend to argue. “Then if the berries are bought you will give the boy his tallies?” she pressed.

“Of course,” drawled the woman, beginning to see Cora’s intentions.

“He’s not goin’ to pay fer them!” interrupted Narrow. “What does she take us for?”

“Hush!” commanded Cora. “Just give the boy his sticks, Mrs. Ramsy, and I’ll attend to the rest.”

“What’ll I give him the tallies for when he owes me more than they’re worth?”

“To satisfy the boys,” demanded Cora. “I will take that crate of berries. They will suit me as well as any others.”

Seeing herself beaten, the farm woman handed the tally-sticks to Cora, who put out her hand to take them.

“Now, you boys carry that crate down to the big machine in the roadway,” she said, “and I will pay Mrs. Ramsy!”

A wild shout went up from the boys! The woman had been beaten! She had not sold but the one crate of berries! And that was the one she demanded Andy should pay for!

Cora winked at Bess and Belle and the girls understood perfectly what she meant.

“Don’t the other young ladies want any?” asked the woman. “You said two crates!”

“But we haven’t time now to stop longer,” said Cora. “We can come again, when the sun will not be so hot. Then we may have a better choice.”

It was Andy who helped Narrow carry the crate to the Whirlwind. “Thank you, miss,” he said, “I was almost sick. And mother expected the money to-night.”

“Yes and she gets it,” declared his companion, handing up the crate to Cora, who stood in the car. “Whew! Ain’t this a good one though!” and he looked at the splendid maroon auto. “Must have cost a lot.”

“Quite a good deal,” said Cora. “Some day, when I come again, perhaps I will give you a nice ride in it!”

“There’s Nellie,” called Bess. “She wants to speak with us, I guess.”

The girl, who had put the dogs back on their chains, was hurrying down the path.

“Good-bye,” she said, “I don’t think we will be here when you come to-morrow.”

“Where are you going?” asked Cora.

“Don’t speak so loud,” cautioned Nellie. “That old Lady Blazes is just as bad on us as Aunt Delia. And worse, for she puts her up to everything.”

“Nellie! Nellie!” shrieked the one termed “Blazes.” “Your aunt wants you right away up at the house!”

Nellie turned with a nod to Bess and Belle.

“Ain’t that a shame!” said Skip. “We will strike fer them girls next.”

CHAPTER V – TOO CONFIDENT

“Mother will be so disappointed not to get her berries,” remarked Bess, as she and Belle, in their little Flyaway, got out on the road, following Cora.

“But Cora did wonderfully well, I think,” replied the sister, “to get the better of that horrid woman. She was going to sell two crates, and she only actually sold the crate which she insisted Andy should pay for. It takes Cora – she is a born leader.”

“It certainly was diplomatic,” agreed Bess, “and I suppose we can come out to-morrow for the others. Mother was not particular about having them done up at once. But weren’t those girls queer? And how stage-like little Nellie looked with those fierce dogs at her side, and the boys standing around her? I declare I think that would make a play.”

“Better try your hand at it,” suggested Belle. “I always thought you had some hidden talent. It may now be discovered.”

“And do you think the girls are going to do something desperate?” asked Bess, throwing in more speed, and brushing along at a lively rate over the broad country road.

“I am sure they are going to do something very unusual, but whether it may be desperate, or simply foolish, would be impossible to surmise with any degree of certainty,” replied the judicious Belle. “I fancy they intend to – leave the strawberry patch, at least.”

Cora turned, and called to Bess to look out for the “Thank-you-ma’ams” that were so plentifully scattered over the hill they had just come upon. Some were deep and long, she said, and with the ever-increasing grade might stall an overworked engine. Following the advice, Bess changed to low gear, and crawled up and down the hills, after the pace set by Cora.

One very steep hill confronted them. The engines of both cars were fairly “gasping for breath,” and Cora, knowing that the hot radiators could cook anything from cabbage to pork and beans, realized that it was not wise to start up the hill until the engines had been cooled off. Consequently the cars stopped near a spring house at the roadside, and the girls alighted to get a refreshing drink. The door was unlocked, and a clear, clean glass stood on a small shelf, just inside the low building.

“Did you ever see anything so delightful?” exclaimed Belle, while Cora dipped the glass in the square, cement-lined pool, and brought it up filled with the coolest, and most sparkling water imaginable.

“And was it just built for – roadsters?” asked Bess, taking the proffered drink.

“Oh, no indeed,” said Cora with a laugh. “These spring houses are the farm refrigerators. In this, every evening, I suppose many, many quarts of milk are put to cool for the creamery. I have often seen a spring house just filled with the big milk cans.”

“Oh,” answered Bess, intelligently. “That’s a good idea. Just think how much money we could save on ice if we had a spring house.”

“Maybe if we had one, you would be able to cool off sometimes,” remarked her sister teasingly. “You look as if you needed a dip this very minute.”

The red cheeks of Bess certainly did look overheated, and the way she plied her handkerchief betrayed her discomfort.

“An internal dip will do nicely, thank you,” answered the girl. “I don’t see that I am any warmer than the rest of you.”

“Here comes a girl from the house,” said Cora, as down the path a girl, in generous sunbonnet, and overgenerous apron, was seen to approach.

“Do they wear their sunbonnets to bed?” asked Belle. “I am sure there is no sun now.”