The Motor Girls on the Coast: or, The Waif From the Sea

She speeded up a little, and turning to one side seemed to be headed straight for a tree.

“Oh!” screamed Eline, and Bess and Belle echoed the cry.

“There!” cried Cora, as she skillfully passed it, far enough off for safety, as even the most careful motorist would admit, but near enough to make an amateur nervous. “You see what it is to have confidence,” she added to Eline.

“Yes,” was the somewhat doubtful comment.

“Cora, dear, I wouldn’t take those risks if I were you,” rebuked her Cousin Mary, gently.

“Oh, it wasn’t a risk at all! I had perfect control. I just wanted to show Eline what practice will do. I am going to teach her to drive.”

“I’ll never learn!” was the nervous protest.

The road narrowed about a mile farther on, but before the cars lengthened out into single file again, Belle asked:

“Where are we to lunch, Cora?”

“I planned on stopping at Mooreville. There is a nice, home-like restaurant there. We’ll be in Churchton soon, and we can stop there and ’phone in to have a meal ready for a party of nine.”

“That would be a good idea.”

Churchton was soon reached, and Jack found he had a puncture. While he stopped to put a new inner tube into service Cora got the restaurant on the wire and made arrangements.

“Now will you please be good?” Jack begged of his car, when the tire had been pumped up again. “This is a bad beginning for you, old Get There.”

“If it makes good you can tack on another title when we’re in Chelton again,” suggested Ed.

“What?”

“Call it Get There and Back.”

“I believe I will!” laughed Jack. “Sorry to delay you,” he said to the others, for they waited for him after Cora had finished telephoning.

“It’s all right,” spoke Walter, good-naturedly. “We have plenty of time.”

Once more they were under way. The road was now not so good, and in places positively bad. But they knew they would soon be on better ground, and on a fine highway leading into Mooreville.

Later they were on a narrow thoroughfare, so narrow, and with such deep ditches on either side, that it would take no small skill to pass another vehicle in certain places. Then, as Cora made a turn, the road ahead being hidden by a thick growth of trees, she saw straggling along the highway a big flock of sheep, tended by a man and two beautiful collie dogs. The fleecy animals straggled and spread out over the whole road.

“Oh dear!” Cora cried, as she slowed down. “Isn’t this provoking! We can’t get past them.”

“Why not?” asked Eline.

“Because they are so–so straggly. They take up the whole road, and if I tried to pass I’d be sure to run over one of them. Oh! what a shame!

“We’ve got to take it slowly!” she called back to the twins, who were just behind her. “I can’t take a chance of threading my way through all these animals.”

“This is tough luck!” complained Jack, as he saw what the trouble was.

The herder looked up stolidly, puffing on a short pipe, and called to one of the dogs, who leaped off to drive back into the flock a sheep that showed a propensity to lag behind.

“Can’t you try to pass them?” asked Eline. “I’m sure you could do it.”

“I’d rather not,” answered Cora.

“Don’t you dare!” cautioned Bess, who heard what was said.

“But we’ll be late for lunch–and it has been ordered,” wailed Belle. “And I’m so hungry!”

Cora resolved on an appeal.

“Do you think you could drive your sheep to one side, and keep them there until we passed?” she asked the man. “It will take us only a minute to shoot by.”

“It would be a risky undertaking miss,” the herder answered respectfully enough. “Sheep is queer critters. You think you’ve got ’em just where you want ’em, when, all to once they break out, and if one goes the others follow.”

“Yes, I know!” Cora was genuinely distressed. “But we simply must get past!” she exclaimed. “Can’t you think of a way?” She looked ahead at the sheep. There were a hundred or more–quite a flock. The herder took off his cap and scratched his head reflectively–looking the while meditatively at his pipe.

“It might be done–it might,” he murmured.

Cora brought her car to a stop.

“Oh!” cried Bess and Belle together, and Bess, who was driving, jammed on the foot and emergency brake quicker than she ever had in her life before. As it was her fender struck the rear tires of Cora’s car.

“Oh dear!” wailed Eline, clutching at Cora, while Belle, recovering from her momentary fright, had the presence of mind to raise her arm in the air as a signal for the boys to come to a halt.

“Cora Kimball!” cried Bess. “What did you stop so suddenly for, and not signal us? We might have broken your car!”

“I’m sorry. But I just thought of something, so didn’t think of signalling. Any damage done?”

“No, but there might have been.”

“All right then. Will you please come here?” she called to the man. “I want to speak to you–that is, if the sheep will be all right.”

“Yes, miss, the dogs will look after ’em,” and, calling a command to the intelligent collies, he advanced toward Cora’s car.

CHAPTER VI

JACK IS LOST

“How many sheep have you?” asked Cora.

“Well, there’s just a hundred and ten, miss. I had a hundred and ’leven, but one died on me,” the man explained.

“What is this–a class in arithmetic?” inquired Jack, who had left his car and come up to where his sister sat in hers.

“Now, Jack–please – ” she said.

“And how much farther does this road go before – ”