Dorothy's Triumph

“My, how affectionate!” said Aunt Betty, who entered at this moment. “And what swollen eyes!”

“Why, isn’t that strange?” asked Dorothy, assuming an innocent look. “She says our eyes are swollen, Molly – and after all the sleep we had, too.”

Aunt Betty laughed.

“Do you think, my dears, I did not hear you talking ’way into the night?”

“Oh, did you, auntie?”

“Yes; but it was your first night together, so I decided to say nothing. But come; let us eat, for Gerald and Aurora will shortly be here in the car.”

The girls needed no second invitation. The coffee, made by Chloe, after Aunt Betty’s special recipe, was delicious, and served to revive the sleepy girls, while the biscuits, as Molly expressed it, “fairly melted in your mouth.”

The meal over, preparations for departure went forward rapidly, and when, at half past five, just as the sun was getting ready to peep above the distant horizon, the big touring car drew up in front of the place, Aunt Betty, the girls, Jim and Ephraim were all waiting on the gallery.

“Ship ahoy! What ship is that?” cried Jim, cupping his hands at Gerald.

“The good ship Ajax, out of Baltimore for the South Mountains. Four first and one second class cabins reserved for your party, Mr. Barlow.”

There was much good-natured badinage as the party climbed into the big machine. Molly and Aurora seemed to take to each other from the first, and Aunt Betty saw with no little satisfaction that the trip bade fair to be a happy one.

When the baskets were all under the seats, or placed in the great trunk-like compartment on the rear of the machine, along with several large tent flaps and a coil of rope, the party waved a cheery good-by to Chloe, Dinah and Metty, Gerald started the Ajax, and they went bowling off down the smooth road on the first stage of their journey.

Gerald occupied the driver’s seat with Dorothy beside him. In the big rear seat were Aunt Betty, Molly and Aurora, while the smaller seats at either side were occupied by Jim and Ephraim.

The city was just beginning to stir itself as the big car rolled through the main streets and out into the suburbs beyond.

Soon the city limits were passed, and the great country highway, so enticing to Baltimore automobilists, lay before them.

Straight toward the west Gerald drove the car, the miles being reeled off at a good rate of speed – all, in fact, that Aunt Betty would allow.

“I’m no speed maniac,” she told Gerald, in response to his query as to whether she cared to ride as fast as a railroad train. “I’m well satisfied at the present pace. I feel that it is as fast as we can go in perfect safety, and I have no desire to endanger the lives of the young ladies under my charge. This is not a limited, anyway, but just a slow train through Maryland.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” the boy returned, smiling.

Some miles further on the country grew rolling and hilly. Patches of dense timber were penetrated, and finally the machine shot out onto a broad plain which stretched away for many leagues toward the west. The sun was well up now, but the party had hardly felt its warmth. The big automobile, moving along at a fair rate of speed, created enough breeze to keep the occupants at a comfortable temperature.

Dorothy and Molly, thoroughly awake now, and in no way missing the sleep they had lost, kept up an incessant chatter, Aurora and Aunt Betty occasionally chiming in.

“I’ve never thought to ask, but what sort of sleeping quarters are we to have at the camp?” asked Molly.

“Goodness me! I hadn’t thought of that,” said Aunt Betty. “Gerald, did you provide sleeping quarters for the lady guests?”

“Yes, ma’am; there are several portable tent tops packed in the rear compartment.”

“Tent tops! Indeed, it seems to me we’ll need some tent sides, too, if we are to sleep with any peace of mind.”

This caused a general laugh.

“I’ve provided for that, too,” said Gerald. “Don’t worry. It was impossible to carry poles and stakes, however, so Jim and I will show our woodcraft by cutting them in the mountains where we camp.”

“I imagine we’ll think of several things we’ve forgotten before we’ve been long at our destination,” said Aurora.

Dorothy uttered a startled exclamation.

“My goodness! How you startled me,” said Aunt Betty. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve forgotten something already.”

“Now our troubles begin.” Mrs. Calvert heaved a long sigh of resignation. “Well, what is it?”

“My curling irons.”

“Pouff! I might have known you were starting a joke. You’ll be lucky to have a comb and brush, young lady, let alone curling irons, and as for a mirror, I’m blessed if I believe we thought to bring one.”

“I have one,” smiled Aurora. “It will do for all. We can take turns each morning combing our hair.”

“A fine idea,” said Jim. “Every morning, I’ll delegate myself as a sort of camp marshal to see that each of you has a turn at the mirror. So when you hear me call, ‘Hey, Molly; you’re next!’ you want to bestir yourself.”

Ephraim, who had been silent most of the time since the car left the city, now burst into a loud guffaw.

“Lordy, but I didn’t imagine dis was gwine tuh be sich er ceremonious occasion. I done lef’ mah curlin’ irons tuh home, but maybe yo’-all will take pity on er pooh colored gem’man en allow him tuh comb his curly locks in front ob yo’ solitary glass.”

“Of course, we will, Ephy,” said Aurora – “especially after all that fine language. You shall have your turn – I’ll see to that.”

It was eight o’clock when Gerald stopped the car in front of a small village inn. The community was just bestirring itself, and the inhabitants gazed long and curiously at the party.

Addressing a middle-aged man who sat on the front steps of the hostelry, smoking a pipe, Gerald said:

“How about breakfast for seven?”

“Reckon we can accommodate you,” was the reply, in a low drawl – “that is, if you ain’t too particular what you eat.”

“Needn’t worry about that. We’re hungry – that’s all. Some fresh milk and eggs, some crisp slices of fried bacon, a cup of coffee, and a few things of a similar nature will be more than sufficient.”

“You’ve just hit off my bill o’ fare to a T,” the man responded, grinning. “Come in and make yourselves at home, while I go tell Martha there’s some extry mouths to feed.”

The members of the little camping party needed no urging, for the early morning ride had given them large appetites, which they were anxious to satiate.

Soon the Ajax was standing silent in front of the building, while its occupants were grouped in the little parlor of the hotel, waiting the welcome call to breakfast.

“There’s a picture of George Washington,” said Jim, as his glance roamed about the room. “Wonder if there’s a village hotel in any part of the original thirteen states, which hasn’t a picture of our immortal ancestor?”

“Probably not,” smiled Gerald. “Thomas Jefferson seems also to be a favorite. See, there he is, peeking at you from behind the what-not.”

“And there’s Robert E. Lee, bless his heart,” cried Dorothy, to whom the southern hero’s name was the occasion for no little amount of reverence – thoughts that had been instilled in her mind by Aunt Betty, loyal southerner that she was.

The hotel proprietor appeared on the scene a few moments later with the cheery remark: